The Journey Of The Phoenix
by Anna B. the Greek
Summary: Follows the members of the Order of the Phoenix from the day of Sirius’s death in Book 5 until the end of Book 6. Main focus on Dumbledore and Snape's joint efforts to stop Voldemort, and on the developments of the relationship between Remus and Tonks.
1. Losing A Friend

**Author's notes:**

This story takes off the day of Sirius's death in Book 5 and goes on until the end of Book 6. Its purpose is to give an Order of the Phoenix focused 'behind the scenes' of Book 6, although you'll notice that it is mostly built around two plotlines, the Lupin/Tonks romance and the Dumbledore/Snape plan on fighting Voldemort. From a point onwards, the plotlines became quite unrelated and I admit I thought about splitting this story in two, but since they take place simultaneously, I decided to keep them as one. You'll tell me if I was right to... ;-)

There are going to be 10 chapters, unless you spot any plot-holes or other parts that might need fixing. I will be updating at least once in a week.

Regarding the genre: The uploading form will only allow me to pick out two, but it is actually Drama/Angst/Romance/Action/Adventure. Please let me know which tags you think fit it best.

Real life thank you's:

-To Athanasia, who helped me through several tough points and gave me the moral boost I needed to make me dedicate so much time and work on finishing this story.

-To Maria, for so many hours of discussing Harry Potter fanfic. You kept me awake during the Advanced Physics classes; I am eternally grateful :-D

Please read and review. Any comments of any nature (even on typos!) will be very welcome. I accept both signed and anonymous reviews.

**Disclaimer: **Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling, including characters, settings, plotlines and quotes. The story is based on characters and facts described in her Harry Potter series. However, the development of anything that appears in there indirectly, as well as the creation and development of anything that does not appear in there at all, is my own work, created by combining information from the book, speculation from various sources and my own conclusions and ideas.

This first chapter might be a little boring, but I needed it to set the scene. Also, I promise my author's notes won't be this long in the following chapters :-D

I hope you enjoy reading.

Anna.

* * *

**-Chapter 1: Losing a friend-**

The silence dominating the dark dungeon was penetrated by a knock on the door.

"Come in," Severus Snape called, examining an almost empty bottle of moonstone dust.

Draco Malfoy's blond head appeared through the crack. "Sir, Professor Umbridge needs you in her office," the boy said smugly.

Snape let an ironic sneer escape his lips, as he rose and headed with Malfoy to Umbridge's office.

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" he said, entering the office and looking around, wearing his best expression of indifference, although he was slightly alarmed. A number of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad members had captured Harry Potter and his friends. The boy himself was standing by Umbridge's desk, apparently boiling with rage. Obviously, the gang had broken into her office, and she had caught them. Snape couldn't help but wonder what Potter had been up to.

"Ah, Professor Snape," Umbridge said, smiling widely and standing up. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

"You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter," he reminded her. "Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient."

She flushed, and Snape knew she had. What an idiotic woman! No wonder she got along so well with Cornelius Fudge; they were of the same brainpower. Good thing he had only given her sugar-free mead. She could have provoked serious damage to Potter, and they _needed_ Potter.

"You can make some more, can't you?" she said, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish, which Snape interpreted as a sign of her increasing fury. But little did he mind about her state of mind.

"Certainly," he replied and his lip curled. "It takes a full moon-cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."

"A month?" she squawked. "A month? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"

"Really?" So that was what Potter had been up to. He knew her fireplace wasn't being watched. He had probably been trying to contact Sirius Black. Typical Potter, impatient, imprudent. You'd think he'd have learned better than that, having messed up all these times and got into serious trouble, facing powerful wizards and the Dark Lord himself. "Well, it doesn't surprise me," he continued. "Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules." He shot him a stern look, and noticed that the boy did not even flinch. Always the arrogant. Just like his father.

"I wish to interrogate him!" Umbridge said angrily, and Snape looked away from Harry back into her furiously quivering face. "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"

"I have already told you," he said smoothly, although he was feeling a wild pleasure in making a fool of her, "that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter – and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did – I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling."

Snape looked back at Harry. The boy looked oddly anxious. Perhaps he feared he was going to be poisoned.

"You are on probation!" Umbridge shrieked, and Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"

Snape gave her an ironic bow and turned to leave, when he heard something that made him stop with his hand on Umbridge's door handle.

"He's got Padfoot!" Potter was screaming. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

"Padfoot?" Umbridge was now crying. "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

Snape looked round at Harry, thinking quickly.

"I have no idea," he told Umbridge coldly. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little. If Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job."

He snapped the door closed. His heart was pounding.

The interpretation of Potter's cryptic message could be only one: The Dark Lord was in the Department of Mysteries, and he had Padfoot – Snape was sure this was Sirius Black's nickname. Potter had probably had another vision, courtesy of the Dark Lord - seeing how, after all these months, he had not learned one single thing about Occlumency.

But... the Dark Lord, in the Department of Mysteries, risking exposure? And Black had once again disobeyed Dumbledore's orders and left the Headquarters?

Snape looked around to make sure he was alone. Then, he pulled out his wand and conjured his Patronus, a grey phoenix.

"Go check upon Sirius Black," he ordered it.

The bird spread its wings and flew down the corridor, gradually fading until it disappeared.

* * *

"You're ready, pal," Sirius Black said to Buckbeak, the hippogriff. The beautiful animal was still lying on the carpeted floor, but all pain was gone from its face and it was making sounds of contentment. 

Sirius looked again at the wound on the hippogriff's leg, which he had covered with a yellowish ointment. It had been Kreacher's doing, no doubt. He was growing tired of the annoying house elf. Oh, if only he could get rid of him...

Suddenly, a silver-grey light shone inside the room. Sirius turned around and saw a very familiar phoenix.

"Great," he muttered. "Snape. What do you want?"

The eyes of the bird flashed, as if they were taking a picture of the room. Then, the phoenix slowly vanished. Sirius gaped, his face red with anger.

"Great! Now he's checking upon me too!" he yelled. "Who do you think you are?"

His wand automatically reached for his wand, with the intent of sending Snape a piece of his mind, but he eventually thought better of it. He let out a loud, rather dog-like growl and settled for stomping out the room and down the stairs.

* * *

"Watch it, Tonks!" 

Remus Lupin hastily dragged the young woman near him, before she tripped over a coffee table.

"I'm sorry, Remus!" she squeaked. "I always forget that one!"

"It's OK," he said, ushering her towards the other direction. "Quiet now, we don't want to wake Mrs Black up."

Behind them, Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt also entered the house and walked to the kitchen. Sirius was there, scrubbing frantically a silver goblet.

"How'd it go?" he asked between gritted teeth, obviously not caring about the response.

"Nothing to worry about," Remus said. "Are you OK?" he added, glancing worriedly at his friend.

"Yes," Sirius replied bitterly, without taking his eyes off the goblet.

The newly-arrived members of the Order sat around a map that had now been spread upon the table, discussing Dumbledore's latest order. Several minutes had passed, when a grey phoenix materialised inside the room.

"You again?" Sirius said, annoyed.

"What, he contacted you earlier?" Kingsley asked him.

"Speak," Sirius ordered the phoenix, ignoring the question.

The bird opened its beak and Snape's voice came out.

"Harry Potter had a vision involving Sirius Black and the Dark Lord in the Department of Mysteries. A while ago he and his friends went to the Forbidden Forest, and have yet to return. It is possible that they have left for the Ministry, which will put them in grave danger if that vision proves to be a trap of the Dark Lord's. All members receiving that message should hurry there, while I will be searching for them in the Forest. Black is to stay in and alert Professor Dumbledore, who is due there any minute."

An eerie silence fell in the room as the bird faded away. Sirius was the first to break it.

"You have no right to tell me what to do!" he yelled, his clenched fist punching the air.

"Calm down, Sirius," Remus said and turned to the others. "Come on, people, let's get going."

"Wait a second!" Sirius called. "Kreacher!"

"What is it?" Kingsley asked as he folded the map.

"Wait for me. I'll just have Kreacher inform Dumbledore and come with you."

"No, Sirius, you're not coming with us," Moody growled.

"I'm coming -"

"It's too dangerous!" Tonks interjected.

At that moment, Kreacher Apparated in the room. "Does Master wish to talk to Kreacher? Does the filthy, unworthy traitor wish to order Kreacher around?" he added, in a lower voice.

"Yes, actually," Sirius snapped. "You are to stay here and inform Professor Dumbledore that we are going to the Department of Mysteries, to search and save Harry Potter and his friends from the Death Eaters."

"Kreacher will do as ordered," the house-elf said, bowing, "because Kreacher has no other choice but to serve the last Black, even if the last Black is a nasty, pathetic..."

"Enough," Sirius said, urging everyone to hurry. "Let's get out of here."

"You're not going anywhere," Moody told him sternly.

Sirius quickly pulled out his wand, a determined expression on his face. "I am coming. It's my godson we're talking about!"

Moody sighed and retreated. The five people left together, leaving Kreacher alone in the house.

* * *

A while later, Albus Dumbledore quietly entered the building and headed to the kitchen. He expected several members of the Order to be waiting there for him, but instead, he was greeted by emptiness. 

Emptiness? No, not exactly. A cackle could be heard from the other side of the room. Dumbledore walked around the big table and saw Kreacher, curled in a corner, laughing.

"Kreacher?" he asked, gently. "Where is everyone?"

"Kreacher's Master and the rest of filthy scum went to the Department of Mysteries to save Harry Potter and his friends from the Death Eaters."

And with that, Kreacher broke into a manic laughter, complete with banging his head against the wall.

"And why is Harry Potter at the Department of Mysteries?" Dumbledore asked again.

"Kreacher does not know," the house-elf said happily and continued in a mutter, "Kreacher will not reveal anything to this man who is besmirching the noble and most ancient House of Black by merely stepping foot in it..."

Dumbledore examined his options for a moment, then made up his mind. He stared intensely into the house-elf's eyes and performed Legilimency. Kreacher's memories started bustling inside his mind, but since his magic was much stronger than Kreacher's, he had no trouble finding his way through them. A memory of Kreacher and Narcissa Malfoy that looked recent came up and Dumbledore forced it to stay surfaced, so that he could watch it.

"_...When I send you notice, you will make sure to keep Sirius Black away from everyone's reach and especially Harry Potter's. Is that clear?"_

"_Yes, Mistress."_

Dumbledore broke contact and Kreacher, dizzy from having his mind invaded, stumbled down and fell on the floor. Dumbledore picked him up and placed him on the table to rest. Kreacher was now delusional and, judging by his ramblings, he thought he was in company of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Mistress," he was saying, "let Mistress Narcissa know that Kreacher fulfilled the orders he was given. Kreacher is very proud to be of help to the Black family."

"Kreacher, why did Narcissa Malfoy want Sirius Black away from everyone's reach?" Dumbledore asked.

"It was her Master's wish," Kreacher growled.

It was not difficult for Dumbledore to put two and two together. He needed to get to the Ministry as soon as possible – but not without doing something for Kreacher's condition first.

He hurried to the sink and opened the cupboard overhead. It was full of small bottles and boxes. He picked out a bottle that was filled with a ruby-red liquid. The label on it read in small, crumpled handwriting 'Enconscio – one spoonful per dose'.

Dumbledore retrieved a spoon and poured the appropriate dosage of potion in it, then fed it to Kreacher. Kreacher blinked and sat up immediately.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said and put the bottle back. Then, he thanked Kreacher and hurried out the house.

* * *

Tonks's eyes fluttered. 

"She's waking up!" somebody exclaimed. Tonks focused with difficulty, but she did not know the blond man leaning over her. Beside him, though, she could see Remus's worried face.

"She..."

Her voice faltered. She gasped and closed her eyes.

"What happened?" she breathed.

"You're in St Mungo's," the unknown man said. "They brought you here from the Ministry of Magic."

"Oh..." She let out a sigh and opened her eyes again. "Is everyone all right?"

Remus's face darkened even more. The healer stared at him and Remus nodded towards the door. Nodding back, the healer left the room.

"What's going on?" Tonks asked, terrified.

"It's... bad news," Remus said with difficulty, drawing his chair closer.

"What do you mean?" she inquired.

He gulped. "It's Sirius."

She waited for him to continue, although her eyes had widened with impatience.

"Bellatrix... She threw him through the arch."

Tonks gaped for a moment. "She..."

"Yes."

She closed her eyes, shocked. "That can't be."

Remus reached for her hand, unable to speak anymore.

Tonks opened her eyes again and stared at the ceiling. "Bellatrix... I was fighting with her... I let her jinx me..."

"It's not your fault -"

"It is!" She looked at Remus. "I'm an Auror! I'm supposed to protect the others!"

"There's only so much you can do."

She drew short breaths, still in a state of shock. "I can't believe it."

Remus grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and wiped the tears that were now streaming down her face. "I know how you're feeling."

"Yeah, I guess you do..." She sniffed and let a faint smile, which caught Remus by surprise.

"What?"

She bit her lip. "Oh, I just... Thanks. For staying with me."

He smiled back. "You're welcome."

**-End of chapter 1-**


	2. Getting Closer

**Disclaimer: **Same as in chapter 1.

Thank you for reading chapter 1. Here is chapter 2.

Any comments of any nature (even on typos!) will be very welcome. I accept both signed and anonymous reviews.

I hope you enjoy.

Anna.

**

* * *

-Chapter 2: Getting closer- **

"Think they're gonna treat him well?"

"Not in a million years."

Tonks exchanged looks with George Weasley for a moment, and then her gaze returned to Harry, who was leaving the station accompanied by his uncle, his aunt and his cousin. "Poor boy."

"Well, I guess it's time for us to get going, too," Molly Weasley said, gesturing to her husband and kids. Appropriate goodbyes followed, with Moody, Tonks and Remus promising that they would often pay visits to the Burrow. Mr and Mrs Granger also promised to send Hermione over sometime during the summer.

When the Weasley and Granger families left, Moody, Tonks and Remus headed for the Headquarters. The Order had already gathered there, Bill Weasley representing the Weasley family.

Everyone was seated around, goblets full of various beverages in their hands. Dumbledore rose and spoke.

"You have all heard about the unfortunate death of Sirius Black."

Some heads nodded.

"This, I am afraid, has complicated matters regarding the safety of using this house as our Headquarters. Presently, we do not know to whom it belongs, or if the spells we have placed upon it still work. For those reasons, it is my belief that we should evacuate until we have concrete evidence that it is safe to return."

"Where will we find this evidence?" Emmeline Vance asked calmly.

"It is imperative that we find out who owns this house now. Black family tradition decreed that the house was handed down the direct line, to the next male with the name of 'Black'. Seeing how there are no more male living Blacks, it is very likely that it automatically passes to the eldest living relative of the family, who, according to the tapestry in the drawing room, is Bellatrix Lestrange."

Tonks shuddered.

"However," Dumbledore continued, "I trust Sirius would have foreseen such a case. My guess is that he made a will, probably leaving the house to Harry Potter. If this is indeed what happened, we must find the document and proceed with confirming that it is legitimate where this house is concerned."

"May I?" Remus interjected.

"By all means."

"Sirius and I never discussed the matter in detail, but he once mentioned that, in case he died, everything he owned would pass to Harry. So I think it is certain that there is a will stating this."

"This is very encouraging," Dumbledore said. "So, some of us will have to fit among their priorities the search for this will. Hestia, Kingsley, get in touch with all the lawyers you can find. Bill, search in Gringotts. Minerva, you search in Hogsmeade. Nymphadora, Remus, you search this house – but be very careful, Death Eaters might attack any minute."

Everyone nodded.

"In the meantime, we shall need another meeting place. Any suggestions?"

Several silent moments passed.

"I believe Mother would not mind if we used the Burrow," Bill finally said. "Only for the occasional meeting, though."

"This is a good thought," Dumbledore agreed. "Each of us shall keep a number of documents in their own house. Except for you, Severus."

Snape nodded.

"Meetings between few persons will be held in the house of one of them. In case of an emergency or an important meeting, we contact Burrow. Any disagreements?"

Silence.

"Excellent. Now, let's share out the paperwork."

* * *

"Nope, not in here either. I think we can rule out the kitchen... Damn it!" 

Tonks was finished with searching in Kreacher's cupboard, but as she rose to her feet, she knocked over a glass and broke it.

"Reparo!" she exclaimed in frustration. The pieces joined together again. "I don't understand why Dumbledore wanted _me_ to help you search in here. I'm the clumsiest person in the Order!"

"Because you used to hang around here a lot, and you know the place," Remus reasoned. "So, not in the kitchen."

"No."

Remus grabbed the piece of parchment where he had listed all the rooms in the house and crossed out the kitchen. "Next?"

"The hallway?"

"OK."

They exited the kitchen and walked in the hallway. Tonks glanced up to the staircases. This house was huge.

"If I were Sirius and I wanted to keep my will somewhere safe, where would I put it?" she mumbled, looking around in search of clues.

Remus walked to the umbrella stand and looked inside. Completely empty.

Tonks walked to the plaques with the house-elf heads. She made a face of disgust and reached inside all the mouths.

"Not there?" Remus asked.

"No, thankfully," she replied. "Ew."

Remus had now proceeded with searching underneath rugs and behind tapestries. She joined him.

"Had you ever been here as a child?" she asked, to begin a conversation.

"Only once, when I was fourteen. Sirius didn't want his friends to see this place; he always found it ugly and depressing. But after he had spent some time with all of us, he thought it was time to return the invitation. And you?"

"No, never. My mother didn't really get along with this side of her family, especially after her marriage. Sirius had visited us once, though, when I was little. I don't remember it, but we have a photo of him and me that's a real mood-lifter."

"Mood-lifter?"

"Yes. I painted his face all over with crayons, and then tried to make myself match him."

Remus chuckled at the idea. "And it worked?"

"No, but the result was rather entertaining nonetheless," she said with a grin and screwed up her eyes in concentration.

Her face started to morph. Her cheeks rounded like a baby's and turned a bright yellow. Her left eye was now big and blue, while the right was narrow and green. The hair in the top of her head became red and curly, and the rest became long, straight and black.

Remus looked at her and burst out laughing. She laughed too.

"I told you it's a mood-lifter!"

She concentrated again and her face changed back, her eyes turned into their natural black colour and her hair into the bubble-gum-pink she loved.

"Doesn't it hurt when you morph?"

"No."

"When I morph, it hurts so much it makes me want to die."

She stared at him. He had a pained expression in his eyes. Tonks, not knowing what to say, reached for his hand.

"It's unnatural, that's why," he continued. "I wasn't born a werewolf. If I were, it wouldn't hurt, it would just be a part of me. But as it is, I'm just a wizard with an incurable disease."

"Don't think of it as a disease."

"Then, as what?"

"You're just different."

"I'm too different. The werewolves see me as a wizard. The wizards call me a werewolf. I don't fit anywhere. The law classifies me as a half-breed, despite the fact that I was born a normal wizard."

"This is unfair."

"But true."

"Don't let it affect you. Maybe you turn hairy and wild for a few hours every month. But the rest of the time, you're good, brave, sensible... and good-looking..."

They both laughed at that last comment, but Remus noticed that her cheeks had turned slightly pink.

"We were supposed to be searching for the will," he changed the subject.

"That's true." She rose. "I'll go check those shelves."

* * *

"Here you go." Molly served some coffee to Tonks, then poured some in her own mug. 

"Thanks, Molly."

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh..." Tonks looked uneasy. "Nothing in particular. Just felt like talking to someone. How have you been?"

"All right. Getting the house cleaned up and everything, we'll be having loads of visits this summer. Harry, and Hermione, and..." She grimaced. "...Fleur..."

"Bill's girlfriend?"

"Fiancée," Molly corrected her, rather unenthusiastically. "They got engaged."

"Oh, that's great!"

"Yeah, I guess."

Tonks shot a strange look at Molly. "You don't like her?"

"Not particularly, but... I hope Bill knows what he's doing."

"Don't worry, Molly, he's a big and smart boy."

Molly shrugged. "And what about you? Nothing going on?"

Tonks flushed. "No... not really."

Molly raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"No, really... Nothing."

"Tonks, you've been dying to tell me since you got here."

"No! It's nothing, really."

Molly grinned.

"I was just... thinking... wondering... Do you think I'd look good with brown hair?"

"Don't change the subject," Molly warned playfully.

"No, really!" Tonks put on a strained expression. Her hair changed to shoulder-length brown. "How's that?"

"Less cheerful, more natural."

Tonks sipped some coffee, her gaze resting on Molly, who was staring at her as if she were trying to read her mind. Finally, she spoke, slowly and deliberately.

"I'm thinking about someone, lately. But I don't know what it means, or what to do about it."

Molly took a sip of coffee. "When you think about him... what is it that you think?"

"I just..." Tonks avoided Molly's eyes. "He's interesting. A good person. And..." Her cheeks reddened. "Well... That's all."

Molly chuckled. "Any idea how he feels?"

Tonks shook her head.

"Maybe you should just tell him."

"I don't have the nerve."

Molly sighed. "I'd offer to help, but having third parties interfere usually makes matters worse. You should find the nerve to talk to him on your own."

"All right," Tonks replied, wishing Molly could have given her a more concrete piece of advice.

Several silent moments passed.

"You didn't ask me who it is," Tonks observed.

"I think I have a pretty good idea." Molly's eyes sparkled.

"You do?"

"Yes. But don't ask me who I think it is. If you're not ready to tell me on your own, I'd better not know."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Molly..."

"Yeah, I know," she interjected. "I'm not complaining. I understand."

"Thanks."

"So, would you like to stay for lunch?"

Tonks smiled. "I'd love to."

* * *

"Holgen, the Gurg of the Iceland giants, is in the country," Voldemort announced to his listeners. "He has settled down near a Muggle town in the west." He pointed with his wand on a red dot on the map hanging behind him. "We shall attack it tomorrow noon. I want you all there, and I want the town destroyed." 

As everyone cheered, Voldemort approached Snape slowly. Snape had not been cheering and did not look particularly pleased with the news.

"Severus," he said, "you understand that you will not be joining them."

Snape said nothing.

"You will be waiting with Holgen. As soon as the attack begins, you lead him to the town. You should be able to do it on your own; the smell of fear will be sure to attract him easily."

"Yes, Master."

Voldemort shot him a severe look. "You look very displeased for my liking, Severus."

"I apologise, Master. I just miss the action."

"You are my only spy inside the Order of the Phoenix," Voldemort reminded him sternly. "I cannot afford to lose you. I hope that you will not forget that."

"I won't, Master."

As soon as he said that, a silver, phoenix-shaped Patronus materialised inside the room, attracting many curious glances from the Death Eaters.

"I have a message from the Order of the Phoenix," Snape explained to Voldemort. "Would you mind if I went to receive it?"

"Of course not, Severus. Go receive it and come back to tell me what it is."

"Certainly, Master."

Snape went to the other room and the phoenix followed him there. Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes were fixed upon him as he walked. By the time he was back, she was standing near Voldemort.

"Bellatrix, I have news for the Dark Lord," he sneered. "News that do not concern you."

"Anything that concerns the Dark Lord concerns me too," she spat.

"Bella," Voldemort said, "be silent. Severus, speak. She can listen, this time."

"The Order will meet tonight at eight," Snape said severely. "My guess is that there is news on the old Headquarters issue."

"Very well, Severus. You may go."

"Master," Bellatrix protested, "this is not any help!"

"It is more than you could ever provide, Bellatrix," Snape said coldly.

She turned to Voldemort. "He has told you neither where the old or the new Headquarters are, nor what this issue is about!"

"I have explained," Snape said, not losing his cool, "that Albus Dumbledore is Secret Keeper for the locations of both the Headquarters, and that the issue of the old Headquarters closely concerns their location."

"If you stayed with us while you received their messages -"

"I have also explained that the messages sent by Patronuses cannot be delivered in presence of people who are not members of the Order."

"Master, you believe him...?"

"Yes, Bella, I do," Voldemort said, very strictly. She cowered. "Severus, I will be expecting an update with anything you can tell me about that meeting as soon as it is over."

"I will do my best, Master."

**-End of chapter 2-**


	3. Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

Thank you for reading chapters 1 and 2. Here is chapter 3.

**Disclaimer: **Same as in the previous chapters.

More real life thank you's: To Konstantinos. (I didn't perform that change after all; for some reason, seeing it written down didn't look as good as it sounded... but I've kept your suggestion in mind nonetheless.)

Any comments of any nature (even on typos!) will be very welcome. I accept both signed and anonymous reviews.

I hope you enjoy.

Anna.

P.S.: I suck at titles, so take the chapter titles with a grain of salt and keep in mind that, on the whole, they are _very_ metaphorically speaking.

* * *

**-Chapter 3: Nothing ventured, nothing gained-**

At eight sharp, that same evening, the Order of the Phoenix was gathered in the Burrow's kitchen.

"Some of you already know it," Dumbledore said, his eyes flying around to spot Hestia, Kingsley, McGonagall, Tonks and Remus. "To the rest of you, I am very happy to announce that Sirius Black's will has been retrieved," he said with a broad smile. "Bill Weasley found it in a Gringotts account in Kenya."

Several heads turned around to congratulate Bill.

"As we already suspected," Dumbledore continued, "Sirius wishes that number twelve, Grimmauld Place, along with all his other possessions, passes to Harry James Potter. However, we have not yet confirmed whether this is possible, seeing how he is not a Black. I already have a plan, but we will only know in a week's time. It is impossible to have Harry removed from his current residence earlier."

Everyone nodded.

"You will be informed via Patronus about the next meeting regarding this issue. Now, Severus, I believe you have news for us?"

"Yes," Snape said. "The Dark Lord is planning to attack a Muggle town in the West Country tomorrow noon. He is counting on being helped by Holgen, the Gurg of the Iceland giants, who just settled in the area. In fact, I have been assigned to lead him to the town."

The news evoked a number of different reactions to the members of the Order: some gasped, some shook their heads in dismay and some grew anxious.

"I would like to suggest a plan of action," Snape said.

"Go ahead, please."

"It would be very suspicious to keep a number of Order members waiting for the Death Eaters in the town. I suggest that only one person stays there, in position to alert the others when the attack begins."

"Very risky," Moody commented.

"Severus has a point," Dumbledore said. "If the Death Eaters realise we knew about the attack before it happened, they will suspect that there is a mole among them." He murmured an incantation and the wall behind him turned into a map of the country. "Severus, which is the town in question?"

Snape shot a sparkle towards the location of the town. It started blinking red.

"How convenient," Dumbledore said, looking rather pleased. "The hometown of Professor Sinistra. I believe she would get in touch with me immediately should she notice any suspicious activity around there." He turned to face the Order members again. "I want as many of you as possible here, tomorrow noon. You will be waiting for my signal to Apparate to the town. Afterwards, I will be contacting the Ministry and asking for reinforcements."

Everyone nodded their approval.

"You are released," Dumbledore announced. "Severus, stay with me for a minute."

Most of the people left the Burrow, while some moved to the sitting room. Dumbledore and Snape stayed in the kitchen.

"Thank you for the information," Dumbledore said calmly.

"It is the least I could do, Professor."

"Tomorrow, you will be leading Holgen to the town as planned."

"But -"

"As reluctantly as you can. But you will. Voldemort must not suspect you are working against him. I shall make sure to alert the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

Snape nodded.

"Also, after the attack, he is bound to wonder how the Order and the Ministry got there so quickly. Kindly inform him that I let you know how lucky I feel for the fact that Professor Sinistra was spending there her vacation time and got in touch with me before it was too late."

"Yes, Professor."

Dumbledore looked intensely at Snape. His calm exterior remained, although the lines of his face were now twitching with anxiety.

"Be very careful, Severus."

"I will, Professor."

* * *

Tonks walked to the Burrow's sitting room, staring at the floor absent-mindedly as she found a seat in one of the sofas. Several people around her were talking, but she was not paying attention to them. 

There had gone her chance. The rummaging around Grimmauld Place was over, and she hadn't worked up the nerve to tell him yet. Now, who knew when they'd find themselves alone together again...

Of course, if Molly could listen to these thoughts, she'd probably tell her that all she had to do was to be brave and invite him over for a friendly chat. And she wouldn't be wrong, either. He'd have no reason to decline the invitation, so they could be alone together, she'd have a chance to talk to him, reveal her feelings, and maybe, just maybe...

"HEY, TONKS!"

Tonks covered her left ear with her palm, grimacing at the loud sound. "Wotcher, Ginny."

"You noticed I'm talking to you, at last?"

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I was thinking."

"Thinking, or _sulking?_" Ginny teased.

"Sorry," Tonks repeated. "I'm a bit... worried, lately."

"Yeah, I noticed." Ginny pulled herself closer to Tonks, her face now serious. "What's going on?" she asked, genuine interest in her eyes. Suddenly, something occurred to her. "You've been like that since Sirius's death, does it have something to do with it?"

"Well... yeah," Tonks said, relieved to have found an excuse for her bad mood. Her cheeks, though, were turning pink. She didn't like lying to her friends. "If I had overpowered Bellatrix Lestrange when I was fighting with her, he'd be alive now."

"Don't blame yourself." Ginny put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "Only _she _is responsible for his death."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Come on, cheer up! Have some butterbeer." She reached for one of the bottles on the coffee table and headed it to Tonks. "Cheers!"

"Cheers," Tonks said with a feeble smile.

* * *

'_...Although not as potent as other wizards of his era, Rastabaragen had the rare gift of espirity, which made him famous among his contemporaries. Once out of school, he dedicated himself to researching the most effective ways for espiriting deceased wizards and witches. His first discovery..._' 

Remus left the book aside as an owl flew in from the open window and threw a letter on his face. It then perched on the sofa's back.

He opened the letter.

_Hi Remus,_

_I hope you're doing well._

_I'm fine, mostly, but I haven't had any company in a while and this makes me feel a little lonely. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight? Eight o'clock, my place. (Don't worry, I may be clumsy and messy, but at least I'm a decent cook.)_

_Waiting for your reply,_

_Tonks N._

Remus grinned, seeing the signature. 'Tonks N.'. She had got around the rudeness of signing only with her last name without using her first name, which she had always hated. He never understood why; Nymphadora was a nice, unusual name, with a beautiful meaning – 'gift of Nymphs,' if he still remembered well the ancient Greek he had once studied. And it certainly suited her; she was such a delicate and sweet young woman... He loved spending time with her, listening to her witty remarks or enjoying serious conversations, being able to see the playful sparkle in her eyes and that happy smile that always made him feel like everything was right in the world...

_Stop it_, he thought grimly. _She is _not_ for you._

He shook his head and read the letter again. Dinner, tonight. Why not? He didn't have any plans, and he could use the company.

He wrote a short note to let her know he would be there and tied it on the owl's leg. Once the bird was gone, he resumed reading.

* * *

It was almost eight, he'd be here any minute. She glanced at the mirror again. _Not a date, just a dinner between friends, _she reminded herself. This lavender robe seemed to be perfect for the occasion, and the brown hair that fell on her shoulders made her look less like a rebel child and more like a woman. Those amethyst earrings, though... too much, weren't they? She took them off and healed the holes on her earlobes. Better. 

The doorbell rang. Tonks drew a deep breath, put on the less stressed expression she could muster and went to answer the door.

"Wotcher, Remus!" she exclaimed. "So glad you could make it!"

"The pleasure is mine," he said and offered her a bag with the Fortescue Ice Cream logo on it. "I seem to remember you like pineapple ice cream...?"

"You're right, it's my favourite. But you shouldn't have. Come on in." She urged him towards the sitting room, while she hurried to the kitchen to put the ice cream in the refrigerator and quickly returned, just barely avoiding to trip on the rug. As they sat down, she noticed that he was staring at her intensely. "Something wrong?" she asked, her hand automatically reaching to brush her hair.

"No..." he said, his voice almost a whisper. He cleared his throat. "Have I mentioned how good you look with brown hair?"

"Yes, actually, but I don't mind hearing it again."

They laughed.

* * *

It had been two and a half hours. They had long finished dinner and dessert, and were now seated in the sitting room, in two sofas opposite to each other, making small talk. Tonks was a nervous wreck inside. It was time to bring it up; he could be leaving anytime. If only she could find the words... 

Her mouth felt dry. She summoned a bottle of butterbeer. "You want some?"

"Sure."

She summoned two glasses, served butterbeer and handed him one of them. After struggling with the words for a moment, she resorted to the safest cliché she could find: "I'm glad you enjoyed dinner."

"Of course I did. It was excellent, and having good company didn't hurt, either." He smiled.

She avoided his gaze as she spoke. "If you wanted, you could always have good company."

With that, she turned to face him, as if challenging him to see inside her heart. He met her eyes, intending to thank her for the kind invitation, but her look made him freeze. The words failed him for a moment, as the full impact of her words sank in.

"You can't be serious," he finally said.

"Why not?" she asked simply, her heart pounding.

"Because... because you can't! I'm so much older than you. I'm poor... I'm a werewolf!"

"So what?"

He sighed and hid his head inside his palms. Tonks let him gather his thoughts and did not press him. Eventually, he faced her again and spoke, his tone soft yet somber.

"It is a difficult time for all of us. I understand that you are looking for something to hold on to, but this is not the answer."

He rose, and she followed suit. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean -"

"You don't believe me, do you?" she accused.

"No, I do believe you," he said, without losing composure. "I just don't think you know what's best for you." At her disbelieving stare, he continued. "Sometimes we are quick to judge things by appearance. If you gave it some more thought, you'd see you don't really feel what you think you do."

"Are you calling me shallow?"

"No -"

"I know what it is I'm feeling, and it's nothing you can dismiss so easily!"

"Tonks -"

"You cannot deny something I know is right here." Her fist came up to her heart. "Say anything else you will, but not that."

He stared at her sadly for a moment. "You don't know what's in your heart, Tonks. It takes time to learn."

"I've had enough time."

"You obviously need more."

"Remus -"

"Nymphadora," he said emphatically, approaching her. "I'm asking you this as a favour. Think things over."

"I don't -"

"You _need_ to. Please. For your sake and mine." He patted her shoulder reluctantly, then withdrew his hand. "I shall say goodnight now. Thanks for the dinner."

"You're welcome," she mumbled dumbly, standing rigid as a board as she watched him leave the house. For several minutes she stayed there, staring at the door, her eyes stinging with tears that didn't want to come out. Then, longing to forget, she grabbed her broomstick and her cloak and went flying.

* * *

She had no idea how long she'd been flying, wandering aimlessly around the country in a fruitless attempt to cope with the bitter effect of his words, when she realised she had arrived at the Burrow. The kitchen light was on. Maybe Molly was up... 

She landed and knocked lightly on the door, three times.

"Who's there?" Molly's voice was heard from inside. "Declare yourself!"

"It's me, Tonks," she said weakly.

"Tonks, dear!" Molly exclaimed, opening the door. "Is there something wrong?" she asked, worried – it was almost midnight, she couldn't have just dropped by...

"Can I come in?" Tonks asked hesitantly.

"Sure, dear... Merlin, look at yourself!" Molly exclaimed, as Tonks walked into the lighted room. Her hair was a mess, her face was red and her eyes swollen. "Have you been crying?"

Tonks nodded and sank in a chair.

"Would you like some tea?"

Tonks nodded again, sniffing. Molly put some water in a mug and cast a quick spell to make it boil. Then, she reached for a teabag.

"I told him," Tonks blurted out.

Molly turned around, but Tonks was sitting with her back at her. She proceeded with preparing the tea, giving her some time to collect herself. Once it was ready, she handed it to her. Tonks sipped thankfully, as Molly sat near her.

"Bad?"

"Horrible," Tonks said. Tears started streaming down her face. "I could have dealt with a rejection, but not with that..." He sniffed. "I never thought he wouldn't even believe me!"

"Remus?"

"Yes." She wiped her face with the back of her hand. "He said that I don't know what's in my heart, that I'm just looking for something to hold on to."

"And what did you tell him?"

"What could I tell him, when he obviously thinks of me like a silly schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher?"

"It's all new to him, he probably needs some time getting used to it."

"He doesn't want to get used to it, he wants me to get over it." She summoned a tissue and blew her nose. "I wish he'd at least understand."

Molly patted her on the back sympathetically.

"Do you think it's crazy?" Tonks asked, looking up to Molly. "My being in love with him, I mean?"

Molly gave her a friendly smile. "No, dear, I don't think so."

"Then _why_ does he?" Tonks threw away the tissue in frustration.

"Give him some time, I say," Molly said, handing her another tissue. "It's too early yet."

"Maybe you're right." Tonks glanced at her watch, and was not surprised to see how late it was. "I should get going now."

"Will you be all right?" Molly asked worriedly.

"I think so."

"Well, if you need someone to talk to..."

"Thanks."

"Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow? We'll be celebrating Fleur's arrival."

"All right, I will." She rose. "Goodnight."

"Take care."

"You too."

**-End of chapter 3-**

**P.S.:** Nymphadora _does _mean 'Gift of Nymphs' in Greek. I should know; I speak Greek every day. I don't know what makes people think it means 'Beautiful gift' (as I've seen in several occasions), but it's a wrong assumption.**  
**


	4. Risks Taken

Thank you for reading so far. Here is chapter 4.

**Disclaimer: **Same as in the previous chapters.

Answering a couple of questions that were raised in reviews:

From Chapter 1: The potion Dumbledore gave to Kreacher was to bring him back in state of consciousness. Hence the name 'Enconscio' – 'en' is Greek for 'in', and 'conscio' derives from the English word 'conscious'.

From Chapter 2: I figured wizards, too, would need some kind of lawyer services. I tried to think up a corresponding name (i.e. that would be to a lawyer like a Healer is to a medical doctor) but couldn't come up with anything good so I went for lawyers.

Any comments of any nature (even on typos!) will be very welcome. I accept both signed and anonymous reviews.

I hope you enjoy.

Anna.

* * *

**-Chapter 4: Risks taken-**

The table had been set in the garden. The kitchen, while big enough to host the Order briefings – the dinner table removed, of course – did not offer enough room for twelve people to dine comfortably. Thankfully, the weather was good, Molly reflected, lighting the candles.

She took an overall glance at the table and, satisfied, returned to the sitting room. Arthur was engaged in a conversation with Remus, Kingsley and Moody, who had only arrived minutes earlier. Ron was obviously pleading with the twins to give them one of their tricks or other for free. As for Ginny, she wasn't there; probably in her bedroom, still getting dressed.

Someone knocked three times on the door. Ron hurried to open. It was Tonks.

"Ron, what have I told you?" Arthur called to his youngest son. "Never open the door without asking who it is first!"

Ron shrugged. "Sorry, I forgot. But it's only Tonks."

She was standing on the doorstep. "Hi, Ron, Arthur..." Her timid smile faltered at the sight of Remus. "...everyone..."

Everyone greeted and waved at her, except for Remus, who preferred to simply stare at her. Half-heartedly, she walked into the room and went to greet Ginny, who was just coming down the stairs.

* * *

_Don't read more in it than there is, _he repeated to himself several times. _She's a friend of them just like you. That's the only reason she's here. Get a grip!_

Still, he couldn't stop staring at her, while she talked to Ginny. She didn't seem to be in a particularly good mood; her smile was forced and her eyes melancholic. He would love to go near her, hug her, comfort her... love her... and be loved by her...

_Get a grip, _he repeated. It was ridiculous to think he could be in love with her. Sure, he found her interesting, attractive, even, but that wasn't love. It was just... a false alarm. An illusion.

"Remus?"

He blinked at the sound of his name.

"What's wrong?" Arthur was asking.

"Oh, nothing. I just... thought I saw a Patronus appearing. But I was wrong. So, you were saying?"

* * *

Molly watched the scene for a minute, then decided to join the girls' chat. As she was approaching, Tonks shot her a look of death. 

"You should _not _have invited me," she mouthed angrily.

The tense situation between the two did not escape Ginny. "Why not?" she demanded.

Molly preferred to let Tonks get herself out of the difficult situation.

"Because..." The younger woman sighed, trying to find a good excuse. "I'm not in the mood for socialising lately, and your mother knows it." Despite her friendly tone, her eyes revealed her annoyance when she looked back at Molly.

"Don't be silly," Ginny scolded her. "All your friends are here."

Tonks ignored the comment and started asking about Fleur instead. Molly silently agreed to play along for the time being.

* * *

Molly kept an eye on Tonks and Remus during the whole dinner and didn't fail to notice neither how far away they sat from each other nor how they didn't exchange one single word – although they often glanced at each other. She briefly wondered if anyone else had noticed something was wrong between those two, but she quickly dismissed the thought. After all, nobody was paying attention to them, not when they were having dinner with Fleur Delacour, the beautiful, French, quarter-Veela girl. 

After everyone was finished with dinner, they moved to the sitting room. Molly managed to get all the Order members to chat together and didn't have trouble forcing Tonks in a chair right beside Remus. They still weren't directly addressing each other, though, and when Remus said a joke about Canadian Boggarts, Tonks only managed a half-hearted smile.

Generally, Remus seemed to be rather pensive during the whole evening, and he was the first to leave, claiming that he had to wake up early the next day. Tonks left shortly after, muttering promises to Molly that she would never join them for dinner again.

* * *

She kept her promise. She visited the Burrow every day, without keeping a regular schedule, but never at lunchtime or dinnertime. Molly insistently tried to make her break her promise, usually in front of other people, but Tonks always found an excuse to turn down the invitation. Molly was growing anxious. She still didn't know what exactly had happened that evening at Tonks's: Tonks didn't want to discuss it any further and Molly did not pressure her; as for Remus, he was his usual self, even though he seemed lost in thought at times. But she watched their attitude carefully during the Order meetings, and every time it was more obvious that they had some issues to work out. Obvious to her, of course; although everyone noticed Tonks's mood was going from bad to worse, nobody realised that she was barely exchanging hello's with Remus anymore – perhaps because she was barely speaking in general. 

Molly wished she could do something to help them. She would have tried to interfere, in spite of her beliefs, but from the very first time she had met with Tonks after that dinner, the younger woman had flatly stated that, if she ever found out that Molly had mentioned one single word to Remus, she would perform Oblivion Spells to both of them. Understanding how devastating it was for Tonks to be trapped in such a situation, Molly respected her wish and did not as much as breathe an insinuation. Yet, she didn't stop trying to make them get together and talk, an attempt that had no result at all.

* * *

Some days after that dinner, the Order was gathered again in the Burrow kitchen, waiting for a gazelle-shaped Patronus that would be their cue to leave to London. 

The need to capture Bellatrix Lestrange was becoming greater with each passing day; the woman had proved to be a great weapon for the Death Eaters and a major threat to the Order. After Sirius's murder, she had participated in a number of other violent acts; not to mention, her distrust in Severus Snape was putting his disguise in danger. Tonks, along with Emmeline Vance, had been specifically assigned to try to locate her, using the few tidbits of information Snape could provide them with – since she didn't trust him with any information on herself. As their research was ending up in a dead-end, however, Emmeline had come up with another plan.

She suggested that they lured Bellatrix, or possibly a group of Death Eaters, into her house. She would be there, ready to send a signal to the Order, which would then arrive at the scene to overpower them. Although it was a risky plan, she had thought it out in great detail and Dumbledore had finally decided to proceed with it.

That was why they were gathered all together, waiting for her Patronus. However, the anxiety that was natural to be in the air while they waited was increasing by the minute. Snape, who was the one to 'betray' Emmeline to Voldemort, had managed to find out the details of the Death Eaters' plans and had already informed the Order about the time of the attack and the number of Death Eaters participating. Yet, it had been about ten minutes since the time he had given them and no signal had arrived yet.

Some had started to suggest that they should go to London anyway, when the door opened and Snape walked in, looking rather gloomy.

"The plan failed," he announced. "Emmeline Vance is dead."

Everyone gasped. "What...? How...?" some asked.

"Avery, who had access to her work schedule from the Ministry records, went to her house with Bellatrix Lestrange while she was at work and charmed it in a way that would prevent any contact with people outside it, so that she would be unable to call for help. But it seems that Bellatrix, whose distrust in me you are all aware of, made sure to keep this information from me until everything was over." Snape clenched his fist in anger towards that woman. "She came to report to the Dark Lord minutes ago... She was gloating with pride. She said that Emmeline put up a fight, even managed to Stupefy Dolohov and Jugson, but 'finally had to surrender to their superiority'."

Everyone was shocked. They sank on the chairs, their faces dark with sorrow. The women had started to weep.

"We should've gone," Tonks whispered. "We shouldn't have waited for her signal."

Hestia rose. "I am going to her place," she stated in her trembling voice. "To take care of her."

"Do you want someone to come with you?" Dumbledore asked with concern. He knew that Hestia was a good friend of Emmeline's for years... she would have a hard time dealing with her death.

"I'll go with her," Kingsley said. "Come on, Hestia..."

He offered her his arm, and she gratefully leaned on him as they walked out.

For several minutes, nobody thought of speaking. They just sat all together, mourning their colleague and friend, who had died in the line of duty. She wasn't the first... and she certainly wasn't going to be the last.

Finally, McGonagall rose from her chair. "I think there's no reason for us to stay here any longer."

Several members made to get up as well, but Dumbledore stopped them. "Before you leave..." he called.

Everyone turned towards him.

"I understand that this is not the best time to discuss work, but, unfortunately, we cannot afford to let time pass us by. Bellatrix Lestrange is still on the loose, and we just came across another example of what she is capable of doing. We shall need to proceed with the arranged plan for tracking her down, but someone must take Emmeline's place in it. I believe that Remus is the only one with a free schedule right now?"

Some murmurs confirming Dumbledore's thought were heard.

"If you do not mind giving up your break, Remus," the elder man spoke again, "I shall ask you to help Nymphadora with her mission."

"It would be my pleasure, Professor."

"Excellent, then. Nymphadora will fill you in on the specifics."

Remus couldn't help but steal a glance at her. He saw her leaning back on her chair, face hidden in her hands.

"Anything else you need us for, Professor?" Sturgis Podmore asked.

"No, Sturgis. You may leave now."

With some quiet goodbyes, everyone left.

* * *

The hours passed and morning came. A grey and cloudy morning, as most had been since the Dementors started roaming the country. 

Dumbledore was slowly walking down a dirty path bordered by tall hedgerows, his eyes absorbing every little detail around him, watching for any sign of movement around him.

At last, he saw it: the building that once had been the house of Gaunt. It was now nothing more than four walls so old and mouldy it was a miracle they hadn't fallen apart yet. Only a few holes indicated there had once been windows on them; as for the door, it seemed ready to fall should anyone touch it.

He approached the door, pulled out his wand and lightly tapped on the door. Red sparkles emanated. Obviously, despite its poor condition, this wasn't a house one could enter just like that.

He took some steps behind, and, with a majestic waving of his wand, he loudly called "ENTRO!"

The walls of the house sparkled red for an instant and the door opened, without – surprisingly enough – falling on the ground.

Dumbledore walked inside. The biggest part of the floor was covered with planks and other debris that had fallen from the, almost inexistent now, roof. Some of the furniture had survived, though. He made his way through it carefully, searching for something that was still intact. His eyes fell on a shelf that looked as if it would fall from its place any moment. Only kitchen supplies rested on it. Then, he spotted a dust-covered desk.

There were three drawers on the desk. Dumbledore cast a simple spell to open the first one, and was not particularly surprised to see it fail.

He put a good distance between him and the desk and, focusing hard, tried the Reductor Curse. The desk merely shook.

After contemplating his options for a second, he scanned with his wand to discover what spell this desk was under. As he had guessed, it was a sealed Protection Spell. Very simple to cast yet extremely difficult to reverse, if you were not the Protector. Dumbledore, though, did not doubt his ability to undo it. He had proven before that nothing is impossible for those who do their best, and he had the power to prove it again.

He touched the drawer with the tip of his wand and called out loud the counterjinx. White flames started creeping around the desk, like ropes seeking to tie it. Once they had surrounded it, Dumbledore started casting Erasure Spells. The flames shimmered menacingly for a while, until the continuous, quick and forceful attack caused them to stay low.

Dumbledore knew when he had reached the point that Erasure Spells were not enough anymore. Gathering all his strength, he pointed at the desk and called out loud the Destruction Curse. The flames sizzled, weakening. Once more he cast the curse, and they faded out completely.

He breathed out heavily and tried a spell to open the drawer. This time, it opened easily. Inside it was a golden, inelegant ring set with a black stone. The moment he saw it, Dumbledore knew it was what he had been looking for.

For a minute, he pondered which spell would be most effective. Making up his mind eventually, he held out his wand and called "VACATO!"

The ring vibrated for a few seconds. Then, it started shining with a blinding force. Dumbledore knew he had to attack it before it attacked him.

He was one second too late. Flashes of white light began darting towards his right hand, causing him to let out a scream of agony and drop his wand. The moment the wand left his hand, they disappeared, although the ring kept on shining.

Using his left hand to shield his eyes, Dumbledore examined his right. It was scarlet and rough, as if the blood underneath it were boiling. It was giving him an excruciating pain, but he tried with all his might to block it away and concentrate.

The ring would attack anyone with a wand, who would be a threat to the piece of soul hidden within. He should stay away from his wand as long as possible; it was unwise to rely on Shield Charms.

He thought hard. The Destruction Curse was one of the most powerful – if cast forcefully enough, it should be enough to destroy that piece of soul. Would it be enough, though, to undo the curse this ring was under?

Then, it dawned on him. The Removal Countercurse. It was usually used for removing minor to moderate hexes and jinxes, but in reality its force solely depended on the strength the wizard put in it. Although the pain in his hand was killing him, he did not doubt he had enough strength to produce a powerful enough Removal Countercurse.

He knelt to retrieve his wand. He pondered for a moment which hand to use – the left, which was healthy, or the right, which was his good? Finally, he decided on the right. It would be foolish to risk his left hand too, after the damage his right was suffering.

When he felt ready, he hastily grasped the wand, pointed at the ring and called out "FINITE INCANTANTUM!"

The curse came out with a tremendous force. The desk broke into pieces while the ring remained on air, vibrating and shaking as if ready to explode. The light it emitted flickered a couple of times and continued shining, but it had no longer the power to attack Dumbledore's armed hand.

Dumbledore cast the Removal Countercurse again and then immediately the Destruction Curse. Unable to fight two so forceful curses, the ring fell on the floor, faintly quavering and glowing. The black stone had cracked in the middle.

He used the Destruction Curse one more time, and everything stopped. Exhausted by the hard effort, Dumbledore collapsed on the floor, taking deep breaths. The pain in his hand was unbearable, and it was slowly taking over his arm, too. His whole body felt weary and his head was heavy.

Slowly, he crawled to where the ring had fallen, seized it and wore it on his left hand. He also snatched his wand, which his powerless hand had dropped, and tried to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

He had encountered Dark Arts before, but it was the first time he had been so severely hurt. He didn't have the strength to fight this curse on his own; he needed the help of someone who knew the Dark Arts well and could reverse it before it killed him.

He needed Snape.

_Wednesday, _he remembered. _Severus must be at school, processing the OWL results._

Dumbledore closed his eyes, and, with the little strength he had left, Disapparated.

* * *

Snape put Blaise Zabini's report card on the heap. It was the last one. 

He opened the door with a spell. Then, he pointed at the heap with his wand and ordered it to the Headmaster's office, where the report cards would be double-checked and signed before being sent to their recipients.

Snape then grabbed his cloak and headed out of the castle. He had to hurry; he hated leaving Wormtail alone in his house, free to mess with his things. Not that there was anything incriminating to find, but the mere thought of him going through his personal belongings was repulsing.

He was still far from the gates when he saw them opening and someone crawling inside. Anxious, he quickened his pace, although whoever was over there seemed to be too weak to do any harm.

As the unmistakably long and silver hair of Professor Dumbledore became discernible, Snape ran towards him.

"Severus," Dumbledore whispered, when Snape was near enough for his blurry eyesight to recognise him. "Just the man I was looking for."

"Professor, what happened to you?" Snape asked, kneeling beside him.

"A... curse..."

"What curse?"

"The object it was protecting was doused in a white light... It kept attacking me while I was holding my wand..."

Snape gulped. He knew this curse, one of the most powerful Dark Curses that existed. To his knowledge, only one potion could cure its effects. He had to go prepare it – but how could he leave Dumbledore there, alone, on the verge of dying?

"Mobilicorpus," he said. Dumbledore's body floated up. As quickly as he could, Snape carried him to the hospital wing, where he left him with Madam Pomfrey, and rushed to the dungeons.

* * *

It was a very tricky potion to make. It required a large amount of rare ingredients – fortunately for Dumbledore, Snape always made sure not to be short of any potion ingredient – and careful mixing. It usually took four hours to prepare, but Snape, improvising a bit, managed to have it ready in only forty-five minutes. 

He put out the fire, poured some of the potion in a large bottle and put a lid on the cauldron, with the purpose of storing the remaining liquid in other bottles once he had dealt with Dumbledore. Then, he hurried to the hospital wing.

Dumbledore was there, lying on a bed, sweaty and delusional, hardly breathing, his face distorted with anguish. Madam Pomfrey was trying various healing charms on him, which, although not very helpful, at least kept him alive.

"Back off," Snape told the woman, rushing near Dumbledore. She obeyed unwillingly as he quickly opened the bottle and made him drink.

"You'll drown him!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, terrified at the sight of a very determined and very grim-looking Severus Snape.

"He has to drink it all," he explained as he kept feeding Dumbledore with the potion. Dumbledore was swallowing quickly, but his condition did not seem to ameliorate.

Eventually, the bottle emptied. Snape stepped back, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's face. Madam Pomfrey made her way beside Snape.

Dumbledore gasped and panted for a little longer, when, all of a sudden, he let out a big sigh and his head fell back on the pillow.

"Merlin!" Madam Pomfrey shrieked.

"That's how it works," Snape snapped and seized Dumbledore's hand. It was still withered, and by now black as coal. "Professor, can you listen to me?" he asked in a soft voice he hadn't used in years.

"Yes, Severus," Dumbledore whispered, his eyes closed.

"Can you feel your hand?" He pressed gently.

"Yes..."

"Does it hurt?"

"No, but it feels like it is ready to fall apart."

"There is no such danger," Snape assured him. "The potion worked. You will be fine in a few hours. Just make sure to take some rest," he said, eyeing Madam Pomfrey.

"I will look to it," she confirmed.

"Severus," Dumbledore spoke again, a little more loudly now, "I forgot to thank you, I believe."

"You are welcome, Professor." He turned to Madam Pomfrey. "He is only going to be getting better from now on. If he seems to deteriorate, send me an owl. Do _not _try to contact me in any other way, is that clear?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded. Severus Snape was not a bad person, she knew that very well, but she always found him scary – he was the only person who could boss her around in her own territory. She was very happy to see him stride out the room.

**-End of chapter 4-**

**P.S.:** If you're interested in reading more on Emmeline's death, you could check out my newly-uploaded story, Trapped. It's a very short oneshot told from her POV that matches the version of events as given here.


	5. Insistence

Thank you for reading so far. Here is chapter 5.

**Disclaimer: **Same as in the previous chapters.

Any comments of any nature (even on typos!) will be very welcome. I accept both signed and anonymous reviews.

I hope you enjoy.

Anna.

* * *

**-Chapter 5: Insistence-**

Tonks and Remus worked separately on their assignment at the beginning. They met again on Friday, in the town the Death Eaters had attacked earlier in the week. By then, Dumbledore had obtained information on Bellatrix Lestrange's wand from Ollivander, the wandmaker, so they spent several hours scanning the roads for any trace of magic created with her wand. In the end, they spotted a path that led outside town, but it was soon cut short.

"She Disapparated." Tonks sighed. "We should scan the whole country to find out where she went from here."

Remus, concerned, looked at the dark sky – the sun had set at least three hours ago – then back to Tonks. "It's not time to be outside now. How about dinner? I never got to return that invitation."

Tonks exhaled heavily. Something inside her wanted to tell him to get lost, but she knew there was no need to be hostile. Awkward as it felt, it was actually nice of him. Who knew, maybe they could even discuss their issues – something Molly had thought necessary since the beginning.

"All right," she finally said.

He extended a hand and she offered him hers, letting him Apparate them to his favourite restaurant in Hogsmeade.

* * *

The restaurant was quite crowded. They found a small table near the entrance, beside a window and sat facing each other. Both speechless, they grabbed the menus and went over them. A waiter soon joined them and they gave their orders. Afterwards, Tonks turned to gaze outside the window, while Remus's eyes were fixed upon her. 

"Don't you think we should talk?" he asked, eventually.

"It depends," she said, her eyes still on the window. "If you mean that you'll be talking and I'll be listening, no, I don't."

"There are things you have to hear -"

"And there are things _you _have to hear," she said harshly, turning to face him. She then sat back, fake coolness in her face. "OK. Go first."

He exhaled noisily. For Merlin's sake, why did she have to make it so difficult?

"Listen," he said. "I'll be honest with you _and_ myself. I don't know what's going on inside me. But I know I can't let myself get involved with you. No, wait," he added, seeing her ready to interrupt him. "I'm only being rational. You need somebody to make you happy and give you a family. What could I give you? I'm so much older than you, I turn to a wolf once every month, and I can't even afford a new robe!" He pointed at his shabby robe, which had patches all over. "I can't give you the life you deserve."

"Is that all?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"Yes."

"My turn, then." She sniffed. She looked ready to cry, but she spoke with unusual strength. "What if I don't care about all these things you just told me?"

"It just confirms my point that you're too young for me, and we can't think alike."

Her eyes darted upwards in resignation. "All right, then."

"Tonks, please..."

"What?" she asked sharply.

He sighed, but didn't speak.

The waiter brought their plates and they started eating in silence. They were almost finished when the door swung violently open.

Everyone turned towards its direction. Several people started screaming. Three Dementors had entered, and the atmosphere became chilly and miserable.

Tonks and Remus quickly pulled out their wands and conjured their Patronuses. Along with a couple of Patronuses conjured by other clients of the restaurant, they attacked the Dementors, who hastily backed off and exited the restaurant.

The Patronuses returned to their masters. Remus couldn't get his eyes off Tonks's one, a huge, silver wolf. Tonks herself looked rather embarrassed.

"I was just using it a few days ago, and it was still a tiger," she mumbled.

The meaning of the change did not escape Remus, but he preferred not to mention anything about it and resumed eating instead. Tonks now looked sick.

"I think I'm done," she said, pushing her plate away.

"You're leaving?"

She shrugged. "I think I can wait until you finish your meal."

* * *

She kept him company until he was done eating. Afterwards, they exited the restaurant and he Disapparated, presumably going home. 

Tonks wanted to visit the Burrow before returning to her place. It was very late, almost midnight, but these days Molly always stayed up late, waiting for Arthur to get back from his endless shifts at the Ministry.

She Apparated in the Burrow's garden. As she'd guessed, the kitchen light was turned on. Molly was doing some chore or other.

She knocked on the door three times and Molly invited her in. They had some tea together and, after Molly told her the news, Tonks proceeded with filling her in on her latest Remus-related news.

"So," Molly said, when Tonks had finished telling her story, "he basically admitted that he loves you."

"No. He said he doesn't know what's going on inside him."

"Which usually means, 'I love you, only I haven't admitted it to myself yet'."

Tonks shrugged.

"And then he said all that about how he can't make you happy?"

The younger woman nodded.

Molly took a sip of her tea. "That's ridiculous."

"What am I supposed to do?" Tonks asked, intently staring at the tea inside her mug.

Molly looked troubled. "Someone has to knock some sense into his head. I could give it a shot..."

"But you said -"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what I said, but after what you told me I'm seriously reconsidering."

Tonks's mind returned to something else. "I can't believe my Patronus!"

"You know how Patronuses work, dear," Molly said sympathetically. "Hopes, dreams, feelings of love and safety... that's what they reflect."

Tonks buried her face inside her palms. "I could do without the awkwardness of a Remus-shaped Patronus delivering my messages."

"Then try to change it back, it can be done. Dumbledore always tells Snape to change his."

She shook her head. "That would take a lot of strength, and I'm completely useless lately. Yesterday Ginny and Hermione were asking me to metamorphose my nose, and I couldn't!" She hit the table with her fist. "I don't know what's happening to me."

"You're upset, dear, that's all. Come on, drink your tea."

Tonks sipped some. "You've been giving me so much tea I'll start growing tea leaves."

"Tea is good for the nerves."

Tonks preferred not to comment. She was not in the mood to argue tea's therapeutic qualities.

"What worries me the most," Molly said after a while, "is that people are beginning to notice."

Tonks looked up, alarmed. "What do you mean?"

"I noticed Mad-Eye's blue eye swirling from you to Remus during the last meeting. And I'd swear I saw Snape eyeing Remus very curiously. It's probably because you and Remus had been very close lately, and now you hardly talk anymore. It couldn't go unnoticed for long."

"You don't think he told them, do you?"

"Mad-Eye is hardly the person to ask love advice from," Molly said with a reassuring smile. "As for Snape, Remus wouldn't tell him if his life depended on it. Just make sure you behave normally around Remus and everything will be OK."

"Easier said than done," Tonks said sadly.

At that moment, three knocks were heard at the door. Molly rose and approached the door nervously.

"Who's there?" she called. "Declare yourself!"

"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry."

She hastily opened the door. "Harry, dear! Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!"

"We were lucky," Dumbledore said, ushering Harry over the threshold. "Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. Harry's doing, of course. Ah, hello, Nymphadora!"

Tonks looked up, forcing a smile. "Hello, Professor. Wotcher, Harry."

"Hi, Tonks," the boy greeted, eyeing her strangely.

Tonks knew there was no reason to stay any longer. "I'd better be off," she said quickly, standing up and pulling her cloak around her shoulders. "Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly."

"Please don't leave on my account," Dumbledore said courteously, "I cannot stay, I have urgent matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour."

"No, no, I need to get going," she insisted, not meeting Dumbledore's eyes. "'Night..."

"Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend, Remus and Mad-Eye are coming...?"

"No, really, Molly... thanks anyway... Goodnight, everyone."

She hurried out and Disapparated, to return home after a very long day.

* * *

Dumbledore was in his office, idly reading the Daily Prophet while he waited for a visit he had been informed about by a very distinctive, grey, phoenix-shaped Patronus. A knock on the door finally signaled the arrival of the man. 

"Enter," Dumbledore called.

The door opened and Snape walked in. "Good morning, Professor. Sorry to bother you."

"It is no problem at all, Severus," Dumbledore replied, leaving the newspaper on the desk. "Have a seat."

Snape sat on a chair opposite Dumbledore. "How are you feeling?"

"Very well, thanks to you. My hand is feeling a little fragile, but I can still use it."

"Oh." Snape frowned.

"And you? Your message worried me."

He hesitated for a second. "As I said, I have some bad news."

"Let me hear it."

"Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange visited me last night, in regards to Draco Malfoy's issue. Narcissa asked me to take an Unbreakable Vow, to watch over and protect Draco during his mission." He swallowed hardly. "And complete his mission in case he fails."

"I hope you did take it, Severus."

"I did, Professor," Snape said, lowering his head.

"No reason to feel ashamed, then. You knew you would be doing it one way or another. The Unbreakable Vow changes nothing."

"I thought –"

"Will you be informing Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked, to prevent Snape from arguing.

"Only if he asks me directly. He would be angry with Narcissa if he found out."

"Do not, then. We do not want anyone to get hurt. Have you managed to gather any more information on Bellatrix Lestrange's whereabouts?"

"I am afraid I have not."

Dumbledore nodded.

"If you'll excuse me, I must return home now," Snape said and rose. "Pettigrew is left alone in my house."

"I understand. Have a nice day. Oh, and Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Let me remind you yet again that a phoenix is not a proper Patronus form for a Death Eater."

Snape looked impatient. "I have not forgotten, but Death Eaters rarely use their Patronuses."

"I insist."

He sighed. "I'll see what I can do. Take care of yourself."

With that, he left the room. Dumbledore returned his attention to the newspaper, on an article about a new defensive jinx developed by the Ministry's Magical Research Team.

* * *

It was a long summer, full of bad news and few successes for the Order and the Ministry. September came bringing changes for several of the Order's members: Tonks was now residing in Hogsmeade, as part of the guard watching over Hogwarts during the school year; Remus was back to spy upon the werewolves; Molly, no longer needed to take care of her youngsters, left away on Order assignments more and more often; McGonagall had returned to Hogwarts; so had Snape, who was now teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, and was additionally loaded with constantly keeping an eye on Draco Malfoy. As for Dumbledore, although he made sure to be up-to-date with everything that happened in Hogwarts, he didn't give up on his mission to find and destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes, however many they were. 

By now, though, he knew he didn't have much time left. It was just as well; his age had become too much of a burden, and proof positive was his slow reaction towards the curse Voldemort had protected Marvolo's ring with, which had almost cost him his life. There was, though, a great task lying ahead of him he had to take care of before his time was over: to train Harry Potter. Harry was talented, without a doubt, and had proven he was quite competent in a duel despite his early age. However, he would eventually have to face Voldemort and, most likely, kill him. There was much more he needed to learn before he could be in position to face him as an equal, and it was Dumbledore's responsibility to teach him some of these things.

Now that he felt his end nearing, Dumbledore had come to realise how much knowledge he had gathered through his life and, most importantly, how many things he knew about others; things he was often the only one to know, apart from the people they concerned directly. Specially in his attempt to defeat Voldemort, he had collected an important amount of information that he now ought to pass to Harry.

The bad part was that he didn't have the luxury of taking his time anymore; he had to hurry. He knew Draco would be unable to kill him unless Dumbledore himself allowed him to. But, with Voldemort behind Draco, and Snape involved, he could not guarantee that he would be able to decide _when _it would be time to die. One thing was for sure: he wouldn't live to see the end of this school year. Not if he wanted to keep Draco and Snape safe.

* * *

"But there are other ways to get you out of the Dark Lord's way without -" 

Dumbledore sighed. "Severus, we have discussed this too many times already. Please accept my decision."

"I shall never accept, Professor, that my life is worth more than yours."

"You will have to. You had known long before taking the Unbreakable Vow, and it is time that you finally face it." Dumbledore firmly crossed his hands upon the desk and looked at Snape severely, indicating that this discussion was over. "And how are you doing with the Defence Against the Dark Arts classes?"

"Excellent, Professor. Thank you for granting me the job."

"Horace is better off teaching Potions," Dumbledore explained, although that was only half the truth. He would have been more than happy to have Snape teach Defence earlier, but with Voldemort's curse upon that position he did not dare risk one of his most valuable assets. "What do you think of the sixth year NEWT class?"

"I never expected to see that many students qualifying for it."

Dumbledore tried to hide a smile. "So Harry did a good job teaching them?"

"Potter?" Snape asked, confused for a second. Then he remembered. "Oh, Dumbledore's Army, of course. Yes, it seems so, if even Longbottom managed an Exceed Expectations in his OWL."

Dumbledore now let his smile show.

"Potter is indeed quite talented at Defence," Snape continued. "In our first class, he produced such a strong Shield Charm I doubt the Dark Lord himself would be able to penetrate it. But he remains the arrogant and disrespectful boy he has always been."

"You are exaggerating, Severus." It wasn't a reprimand or an accusation; simply an observation.

"I had to give him a detention for Saturday evening, because he mocked me."

Dumbledore did not intend to interfere with Snape and Harry's relationship, since he knew its background, but his face darkened at this piece of information. "Saturday evening, you said?"

"Yes." Snape was slightly taken aback by this question.

"I intended to have a meeting with him on Saturday evening. Would you mind putting off his detention for next Saturday?

"Surely not, Professor, if you need him."

"I do. Thank you."

"You are welcome."

* * *

_He stood waiting outside the Dark Lord's door... the Dark Lord would be out anytime now... and he would kill him..._

_Indeed, the Dark Lord opened the door... the man had already cast the Muffliato Spell, so that the Dark Lord wouldn't hear him cast the curse..._

_Quickly, he pulled out his wand and called, "Avada Kedavra!"_

_The curse missed the Dark Lord by inches... but he felt it passing near him and turned around... the man was exposed in front of those terrible, red eyes..._

"_YOU TRAITOR!" the Dark Lord yelled. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Snape jolted awake, sweaty and short of breath. _Just a dream, _he told himself, _just a nightmare. _It had been fifteen years, and Voldemort still didn't know who had attacked him that day... He had been wearing James Potter's Invisibility Cloak, and Disapparated before Voldemort had managed to cast a curse towards him...

He summoned a glass of water and drank greedily. Yes, he had got away with it, but he had failed nonetheless... and he had allowed Voldemort to kill the Potters...

He would never forgive himself for being responsible for their deaths. James Potter had been his torturer for years and Snape hated him with all his might for what he'd put him through, but he couldn't forget that he had saved him from the werewolf Lupin, he would be dead now if it hadn't been for him... and he had returned him the favour by informing Voldemort about the prophecy that signaled the death of both him and his wife. At least little Harry had survived the attack; and Snape was going to do everything in his power to spare him the fate his parents had suffered and, finally, pay off his debt to James Potter.

**-End of chapter 5-**

**A/N: **So now you know the reason this story gives to explain Snape's remorse and his turning to the good side. I've heard people speculating about how he was in love with Lily, and that was why he switched sides, but... to keep it short, let's just say that I didn't want to go there. So I settled for something different, which seems plausible enough to me, and I will use a quote from Book 3 to prove my point: In Dumbledore's words, 'when one wizard saves another wizard's life, it creates a certain bond between them... ...this is magic at its deepest, its most impenetrable.'

Please drop me a word to tell me what you think!


	6. Hide And Seek

Thank you for reading so far. Here is chapter 6.

**Disclaimer: **Same as in the previous chapters.

Online thank you's: To mercutio-rane, for Beta-Reading the Remus/Tonks scenes of this story. Thank you so much:)

Any comments of any nature (even on typos!) will be very welcome. I accept both signed and anonymous reviews.

I hope you enjoy.

Anna.

* * *

**-Chapter 6: Hide and seek-**

By October, life for the Order members had become quite hectic. Most of them had trouble balancing their jobs with working for the Order, so Dumbledore was forced to assign most of the time-consuming tasks out to the three unemployed members: Molly Weasley, Mundungus Fletcher and Alastor Moody.

Number twelve, Grimmauld Place, had returned to its previous status as the Order headquarters, although there were scarcely any meetings anymore. The paperwork, however, had returned to being stored there. So, every Friday, the three of them gathered there: Molly to do the weekly cleaning, while Moody and Mundungus were filling out the Members Schedule. This had been one of Dumbledore's brightest ideas: All the members sent to Moody and Mundungus their working schedules for the following week. Then, these two composed a timetable that stated who was free at each time of the week and shared copies of it out to everyone. This way, if anyone found themselves in an emergency situation and needed backup, they would know who to contact.

"Tonks is patrolling Hogsmeade this week, day shift, ten to ten," Mundungus said, consulting her letter. "No day off."

"Whoever is planning that team's shifts is a moron," Moody growled and started filling out the timetable.

"Almost done already," Molly commented as she entered the kitchen, a dirty cloth in her hands. "I swear, Mundungus, there's less and less to dust each week."

He looked at her, feigning surprise.

"Don't give me that look," she warned. "I'm not stupid."

"My dear Molly -"

"Shut it, Dung, and get back to work," Moody interrupted him. "Who's next?"

"Ah." He grabbed another letter. "Bill Weasley. Nine to five day shifts at Gringotts from Monday to Friday, Saturday off..."

"Not so fast!"

Mundungus recoiled. He reached inside his coat and caressed the bronze photo frame he had nicked on entering the house. Another fine piece for his growing... collection.

It was high time for a trip to Alton's Antiquities at Hogsmeade. Maybe tomorrow.

* * *

Saturday came. Most of Hogwarts' students were at Hogsmeade, so the teachers were in for a quiet morning.

Snape was in his study, correcting some essays, when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," he called.

It was Argus Filch. "Sir, Professor McGonagall asked me to bring you this. Be careful not to touch it." He approached and put a package wrapped inside a scarf on the desk.

Snape unwrapped the package and held his breath. Carelessly enveloped in brown, drenched paper, was an ornate opal necklace.

"How did this get in here?" he demanded, his eyes flashing.

"I don't know, sir, it was Potter and his friends, they gave it to Professor McGonagall -"

"Go tell her I want to see her. Now!"

Filch ran outside the door to get her, while Snape examined the necklace. It was infamous for the powerful curse that had been put upon it ages ago. Barely touching it was enough to make one suffer a terribly painful death. What could it be doing in here? And in Potter's hands, even? Surely he hadn't been the one to purchase it. Could he have found it somewhere in Hogsmeade...?

"Severus," McGonagall said, hurrying in the room, "a girl touched that necklace."

Snape looked up. "Who?"

"Katie Bell. Hagrid took her to the hospital wing. Do you know how to reverse the curse?"

"I can try."

The two teachers headed together towards the hospital wing with big, hasty steps.

"What exactly happened?" Snape asked, on their way there.

"Somebody gave it to her, probably after Imperiusing her first. She was asked to deliver it to somebody here in the castle, but we don't know to whom."

"Filch mentioned Potter and his friends..."

"Yes, they saw what happened and brought me the necklace."

"I cannot remember one time something weird happened and Potter was _not _around," he said, annoyed.

"Severus, don't be unfair to the boy."

Snape did not reply. They reached the hospital wing. Katie was lying on a bed, thrashing and wailing in agony. Madam Pomfrey was near the next bed, with Leanne Merkle, who was trembling in shock. He approached Katie, firmly grabbed her left hand and examined it. It looked perfectly fine.

Afterwards, he reached for her right hand. She was wearing a purple glove he hastily pulled off. And there, at the tip of her index finger, he saw a strange red mark, around of which the skin looked infected. He snatched the glove and examined it; it had a tiny hole exactly at that point where the mark was.

He turned to McGonagall. "Professor, do you know what exactly happened when the girl touched the necklace?"

"She rose up in the air, began screaming and then collapsed," she repeated the information she had got from Harry.

Snape gave a curt nod and turned to the suffering girl. Holding her hand tightly, because she was struggling to get away from his grip, he pulled out his wand, placed its tip gently on the mark and started murmuring an incantation.

Katie started relaxing gradually. Finally, she sank into a deep, coma-like sleep.

Snape turned to McGonagall. "She has to go to St Mungo's."

"I'll take care of it," McGonagall said.

Without another word, he left the hospital wing. A cursed necklace had just reached a student's hands with orders to be delivered to somebody who very conveniently remained unnamed, and Snape had more than a very good idea about who was behind it.

He went to the Slytherin common room. Several first and second years were sitting there, enjoying the warmth of the fire.

"Has anyone seen Malfoy?" he asked loudly.

"He came back a while ago and wait straight to the dormitory," a black-haired girl said. "He looked very tired."

Snape frowned. "Tell him I want to see him in my office as soon as he's up," he ordered and left.

* * *

Ιt had been almost five months since her discussion with Tonks. Molly had been keeping an eye on her and Remus, but soon realised the situation between them wasn't getting any better and decided she needed to talk to him. She had not proceeded with it yet, partly because she had wanted to give him some time and partly because she had only seen him a couple of times since then. Now Christmas was approaching, though, and she decided it was about time. First time she'd see him, she'd discuss it with him.

Remus eventually visited the Burrow one morning in mid-December. Only Molly was there to welcome him.

"Remus, it has been so long! How have you been?"

"All right," he said and sank in a chair. His robe was tattered and he looked drained. "It was full moon last night."

"You poor thing," Molly said sympathetically. "You should take some rest."

"You know how it works," he said, "I can't sleep until night falls again."

"I'll make you something to eat," she said, opening the fridge. "And, for Merlin's sake, take one of Arthur's robes!" She pointed at a pile of freshly-ironed clothes, which was resting on a chair in the corner of the room. "Yours is a rag."

"No, Molly, really -"

Molly shot him a stern look and cast a spell at his robe. The holes patched up quite elegantly and the trimmed edges sewed themselves. She then closed the fridge and placed everything she had retrieved from it on a counter.

"...Thanks," he said. "You're better at that than me."

"I've raised seven children," she reminded him. "Speaking of which, don't you think you should start thinking about having children yourself?"

"As if there aren't enough werewolves already." His voice was bitter.

"You were not born a werewolf, Remus, chances are good that your children will be healthy."

"They will be _born _healthy, and then I'll bite them -"

"Don't be ridiculous. You can't deny yourself the joy of having a family just because of fear."

"It's not fear, Molly," he protested, "it's good sense. I don't want more people to suffer the pain of being a werewolf. Besides, I don't have the money to raise children, and, let's face it, I'm too old to get involved in romances."

"Tonks didn't buy this nonsense and nor will I," Molly said coldly, without looking up.

Remus, dumbfounded, turned to look at her, but he could only see her back.

"You know?"

Molly finished preparing a sandwich, put it on a plate with the other three she had already made and served Remus. "I've known for months." She sat beside him.

Speechless, Remus grabbed one of the sandwiches and began eating.

"You should talk to her," Molly said, some minutes later.

Remus swallowed hastily. "We've talked, but she doesn't understand."

"Then try again. Do you have any idea what she's been like since your last conversation?"

He hesitated. "I heard she's not doing very well..."

"She's been _miserable._"

He sighed. His gaze fell on the plate.

"I don't want to hurt her," he said softly. "I care about her. And that's why I'm not letting her waste her life over a wrong choice."

His feelings for her were written all over his face. Molly put a compassionate hand on his shoulder.

"You are _not _a wrong choice. You're the best choice she could make."

He summoned a napkin and wiped some mustard that had dripped on his sleeve. "I am the _worst _choice she could make, and I've already explained why." He breathed heavily. "Let's just drop this subject, shall we?"

She shook her head dismally, but respected his wish nonetheless. "All right. So, what are you planning for Christmas?"

He frowned. "If Dumbledore agrees, I'll give myself a holiday break."

"Having a hard time with the werewolves?"

He winced. "Well, let's just say that their idea of holiday festivities is not exactly my thing."

She smiled understandingly. "I'm sure Albus won't mind giving you some time off. And you could come spend it here with us," she suggested.

He smiled, and suddenly looked much younger than his thirty-seven years. "That sounds great."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore took pride in being a patient man. A very patient man indeed.

But Rufus Scrimgeour's letters had the power to infuriate him.

Dumbledore had repeatedly stated that he, as the Hogwarts Headmaster, was never going to allow Harry Potter to express explicit support to the Ministry after the past school year's events. He had also clarified his conviction that, even if he was to allow such a thing, Harry Potter himself would refuse to cooperate. And still, there was Scrimgeour, after six whole months in the office, still insisting on a futile effort that had been started by his predecessor.

He had replied to the first few letters, back in July. Afterwards, when the polite, formal letters turned to an odd combination of pleas and threats, he started sparing himself the effort. He kept reading them, just in case they contained something worthwhile, but he had not seen an original argument in months.

One of these letters was now open in his hands. He mulled for a while over how some people have trouble grasping perfectly simple concepts – like the meaning of the word 'no' – and thrust it in a drawer. At that moment, the door creaked open.

"Professor," Snape said, relieved. "I hoped you'd be still awake. Can I talk to you?"

"Of course, Severus," he replied, gesturing to a chair.

Snape walked in, closed the door behind him and sat down. "I managed to talk to Draco."

Dumbledore eased down a little, hearing the good news. Draco had been avoiding Snape ever since the necklace incident – probably because he was involved in it. Although, unlike Snape, Dumbledore was of the opinion that they should not pressure Draco, he knew that time was running out on them and was constantly feeling under great pressure himself.

"So, what did he tell you?" he asked.

Snape's face darkened. "Not much. He doesn't trust me anymore; he thinks I want to steal his glory." He paused for a second, then continued. "He denied he had anything to do with the necklace, but I tried to use Legilimency on him and he blocked me. He said he has a plan but refused to tell me what it is. And he said he has people by his side," he added. "Death Eaters, I assume."

Dumbledore contemplated the news for a while, then spoke calmly. "His not trusting you is very disturbing. You will have to try to gain his trust again. In the meantime... we must be very cautious. There is little time left."

* * *

Tonks's gaze wandered around the room, momentarily resting on the calendar – 28 December... wasn't this year ever going to end? – and then on the Christmas cards she had received, carelessly piled on the small table.

There was plenty of them – from her parents, from Molly and Arthur, from the twins, from Dumbledore, from Harry... even the typical card the Ministry sent to all its employees. She didn't care, though; she only cared about the one card she _hadn't _received.

Of course. He hadn't spoken to her in six months, why would he bother now? Tonks felt stupid for actually sending him a card. Stupid, and... weak.

When had she been so dependent on anyone? During her whole life, she had been a free spirit, counting on her own power and acting on instinct, her name a synonym of cheer and optimism. And here she was now, spending her Christmas break brooding in this tiny, depressing flat the Ministry was renting for her while she was stationed at Hogsmeade. All alone.

A rapping noise was heard from outside. Tonks assumed she hadn't secured well the shutters and they were pounding with the wind. However, once she had opened them, she realised it had been an owl knocking.

It had a letter for her. She retrieved it and let it go, closing the shutters behind it. Then, she sat on the bed and opened the letter.

It was from him.

_Dear Tonks,_

_First of all, thank you for the nice card. It was very thoughtful of you. I feel guilty for not having sent one, too; I blame it on my cowardice._

_I hope you are having a nice holiday. I am at the Burrow. Everything is fine, except for the fact that Molly has been constantly pestering me. She says that you and I need to talk. And, to be honest, I just came to realise that she is right._

_This is why I am sending you this letter. As I said, I am a coward; I could never find the courage to face you again for a talk. But maybe it will be easier in a letter._

_So... well. I am not sure about what I must say. I am confused. No, scratch that. I was confused. Now I am not, I am only... scared. I found myself in a position where I never wanted to be, and I am afraid that telling you would be the wrong thing to do._

_I am probably making no sense at all. So I will just gather the little amount of courage I have left and tell you everything straightaway._

_I am in love with you. I do not know how it happened or when it started, but I have reached a point where I can no longer deny it. Of course, I doubt I will ever tell anyone else (except Molly, who I think guessed it from the beginning)._

_On the other hand, I insist on what I have told you. We cannot be together, much as it breaks my heart. You cannot deny that my arguments are based entirely on reason._

_Think, and reply truthfully to yourself: Would you like to live dressed in rags in an underground flat – which is all I can afford? Would you like your husband to be a werewolf, fourteen years older than you, whose only occupation is mingling with other werewolves – who, incidentally, happen to be followers of Voldemort? Would you like to give birth to children that would be forced to live in poverty and be pointed at with the finger because they are 'the kids of that werewolf'? I believe you will find you would not. I know I do not want this life for you. You deserve much more than that._

_So... now you understand why I am staying away. It really is painful to me, too. But distance and time can heal. I believe that someday we will be able to put all this behind us and move on._

_You need not reply to this letter; I understand it is quite awkward. I just thought I ought to explain my reasoning fully to you._

_Have a Happy New Year._

_Remus._

Tonks stared at the letter in astonishment. He wasn't saying... he wasn't _suggesting_... NO!

She crumpled the letter in her hand and threw it towards the door. Stupid, stupid man! Why did he have to be so _stupid_? Ruining both their lives because of... _reason! _And what kind of reason was that, anyway? Dumbledore always said there's nothing stronger than love. She _loved _him. And _he _loved her, too! Shouldn't that be enough?

Fuming, she found a piece of parchment, a quill and ink and started writing.

_Remus,_

_You asked me three questions. I'm answering:_

_Yes, yes, and YES! Damn it, why are you being so stupid? I could never blame you for not loving me back, but if what you wrote in that letter is true, I swear it's making me want to come over and bang your EMPTY head against the wall. You've already given me your reasons and I've said I DON'T CARE about ANYTHING on that list. My Patronus, the creature I conjure when I need protection, is a WOLF, doesn't that give you any hints on who makes me feel safe, who I want beside me? Also: Very sneaky of you to be using the children I might have as a weapon, but you can be sure that if I ever have any, I'll teach them NOT to let themselves be affected by prejudices._

_Incidentally, I have a job, a salary and a second-floor flat with a big, full wardrobe in London, not to mention a house in Liverpool where I'm sure my parents would welcome us. Not that I mind the rags and the underground flat, but I just thought I'd mention._

_You can have the Happy New Year I know I won't be having._

_Tonks._

She read over what she had just written and burst into tears. When her eyes ran dry, all her anger had vanished and only the bitter pain in the heart remained.

She looked at the parchment. It was messed up and practically illegible with all the tears that had spoiled it. She cast a spell and it cleaned up.

For a moment, she stared at it thoughtfully. Finally, she got up, took it and left for the post office.

**-End of chapter 6-**


	7. Enough Is Not Enough

Thank you for reading so far. Here is chapter 7.

**Disclaimer: **Same as in the previous chapters.

Any comments of any nature (even on typos!) will be very welcome. I accept both signed and anonymous reviews.

I hope you enjoy.

Anna.

* * *

**-Chapter 7: Enough is not enough-**

"He's not in his study, Albus."

Dumbledore looked up at the portrait of a silver-haired witch. "Thank you, Dilys." He then put the papers he was studying in a drawer and left his office, deep in thought.

Since Snape had found out that Draco Malfoy no longer trusted him, his behaviour had changed for the worse. The worst part of it was that he was constantly avoiding Dumbledore; he made sure to keep his distance during lunch or dinner, he spent most of his time away from his study or classroom – so as to avoid Dumbledore's requests for a meeting, without a doubt – and he wouldn't even send back a Patronus when Dumbledore sent him his. Dumbledore feared that the younger man, tired of waiting, now wanted to take matters into his own hands. Not that he didn't mean well; he had the best intentions possible, but his feelings were clouding his better judgement, and given the circumstances, Dumbledore was quite sure that no plan could have better results than the one he had come up with a few months ago.

The elder man arrived at the teachers' office. Horace Slughorn and Pomona Sprout were there, discussing an article on the side-effects of dittany they had read in the morning Prophet.

"...as happens with all antidotes, after all," Sprout was saying.

"You have a point there," Slughorn said. "Hello, Albus."

"Hello, Horace, Pomona. Did you happen to see Severus?"

"I did," Sprout provided. "He came to find me in the greenhouses earlier and asked me for some Xylanthemum extract. But I didn't have any Xylanthemums at all, so he went to look inside the Forest."

"What does he need the Xylanthemum extract for?" Slughorn wondered aloud.

"A potion for personal use, obviously," Sprout suggested.

"It is not very useful; it usually takes large quantities where a few drops of Chrysanthemum extract could have the exact same effects. Icould have given him some of that, if he had asked me."

"I suggested it; but he wanted specifically Xylanthemum."

Slughorn looked very pensive for a minute. "The only potion I can think of where Xylanthemum works better than Chrysanthemum," he said eventually, "is the Provisional Paralysis Potion."

Sprout made a sound of amused disbelief. "Who would Severus want to paralyse? No, he probably has got some mild cold, and is looking for a softer active ingredient than Chrysanthemum."

Dumbledore followed the conversation silently. If Slughorn was right, then he had a very good idea of what Snape had in mind.

He thanked his colleagues and left the room, in search of Snape.

* * *

It took Dumbledore fifteen minutes to find him. Eventually, he spotted his thin figure, his head bent down as he stared at a bush rather interestedly. In his right hand there was a large bunch of Xylanthemums.

"Who do you want to paralyse, Severus?" he asked as he approached.

Snape looked up. "You know very well, Professor."

"Is this your idea of taking care of him?"

"Enough with taking care of him!" Snape exploded. "I shall _stop_ him."

"No, Severus, you will not," Dumbledore said calmly. "You and I have made a deal that still stands. I can take care of myself for as long as it's necessary. You, first of all, have to protect him _and _yourself."

"You take too much for granted, Professor," Snape spat. "Maybe I don't _want_ to do it anymore!"

"You agreed to do it -"

"I changed my mind!"

"You _agreed_ to do it," Dumbledore repeated, his voice firm, "and that is all there is to it."

Snape glared at the elder man, but did not respond.

"On another note," Dumbledore moved on, "I would like to remind you that the culprit for the necklace incident has not officially been discovered yet, and as a result you are supposed to make some more investigations in your House."

"But there's no need -"

"Of course there is." His tone was very stern. "We cannot afford to raise any suspicions."

Snape remained silent again. The elder man's gaze was resting upon him as if fixing him in place. For a minute, nothing could be heard except for the rustle of the wind through the leaves.

Dumbledore's expression seemed to soften a little as he spoke again.

"Do you remember when you first joined me? You wanted to take an Unbreakable Vow that you would always stay by my side and follow my command."

"I remember."

"I said that all I wanted was your word. And you gave it to me. Is that correct?"

"It is."

"Do you wish to take it back now?"

Snape swallowed audibly. "No, Professor."

Dumbledore's light blue eyes twinkled momentarily, and his lips curled in a faint smile. "I am glad."

He turned around and headed back to the castle. Snape stared at his hand for a moment, then dropped the Xylanthemums he had gathered and followed him.

* * *

The rest of the winter passed without any unpleasant surprises for Dumbledore. He had been quite busy attempting to locate more of Voldemort's Horcruxes and having the occasional meetings with Harry. Harry had understood the importance of studying Voldemort's life – or, at least, trusted Dumbledore when he talked of its importance – in the effort to bring him down, which was very encouraging. However, since he had overheard Snape's and Draco's talk before Christmas, he also seemed rather interested in finding out what they were up to, not to mention that his old suspicions towards Snape resurfaced. Dumbledore had tried to be understanding; admittedly, Snape had a blameworthy past, and his relations with Harry were far from ideal.

Sometimes, Dumbledore wished he could explain to Harry – or anyone else, for that matter – the reasons why he trusted Snape. But Snape felt deeply ashamed of being responsible for the death of the man he owed his life to, and he had almost pleaded with Dumbledore to keep it a secret. As for his failed attempt to murder Voldemort, it had remained a secret so far and should remain such the longest possible; whoever was to hold that information would be in great peril. As long as he was around and people trusted his judgement, he would be the only one to know.

* * *

It was early in the afternoon. Feeble sunrays passed through the cave's entrance, falling upon the curled bodies of the people sleeping on the floor.

In one corner, though, somebody was not sleeping. Remus was awake, absently gazing around the room and thinking about those people. His_ equals._

He would never be able to feel in harmony with them. Because a part of the wizarding world resented them, they were willingly exiling all human nature from inside them and trying to reduce themselves to the point of living and behaving like animals. Even worse – they were now trying to force more people into enduring the pain of lycanthropy, as if to punish them for being so narrow-minded.

Some were victims of Fenrir Greyback's brainwashing – but for the most part, they knew exactly what they were doing.

To a certain degree, he could sympathise – after all, he had felt on his own flesh the rejection some people held for whom they considered 'half-breeds'. Yet, it was very unfair to generalise, when there were so many people who treated the werewolves with respect and kindness. There had always been people willing to give him a chance: Albus Dumbledore. James, Sirius and – it hurt to put this name near the other two – Peter. Mrs Nerrince, his landlady since he sold his parents' house – how many times had she had to wait for months, until he could find another job and pay the rent? Alastor Moody, always friendly to him despite his habit of being distrustful to the point of paranoia. Harry. The Weasleys.

Her.

He took a piece of parchment out of his pocket, unfolded it and read it for what ought to be the millionth time. The words seemed to be leaping out to him.

'_...I've said I DON'T CARE about ANYTHING on that list. My Patronus, the creature I conjure when I need protection, is a WOLF, doesn't that give you any hints on who makes me feel safe, who I want beside me?...'_

That letter had been his comfort for months. Every time Greyback and his gang made speeches about why wizards should pay for being discriminative, urging everybody to banish all human emotions from inside them because 'it's a cruel, hateful world, and only those ruthless enough have the strength to fight for survival', he took out the letter to read it and remind himself why he had never wanted or needed to join the werewolves' community. Remind himself that the world was not as hateful as the others thought. That, somewhere out there, there were people who accepted him for what he was.

And yet, he hadn't replied. There was nothing more he could say, when she so stubbornly refused to see reason. That letter was pure Tonks, written with the spontaneity and passion that always described her. He could hear her in his mind shouting these words to him, defending that strange fancy she had taken on him as if it was the deepest love imaginable.

No doubt that, to her, it was. Not because she was shallow or silly. She was simply... young. Inexperienced in the matters of the heart. She didn't know the difference between friendship, lust and love.

But Remus did. And although he couldn't tell what exactly it was she was feeling, he knew for sure it _wasn't _love. He was incapable of inspiring love to anyone, especially to someone like her. They simply didn't... fit together. His time had come and gone; her time was now, and she had all the opportunities life could provide her with. She wouldn't throw them away for his sake, for someone who had a problem that could put everyone near him in danger. And even if she wanted to do it, he wouldn't let her. If there had been times when he hadn't been alone in the past, it was because the people around him had a means of protection. There was no way he would inflict his presence upon people who were defenseless or, worse still, _depended _on him in any way.

Especially not on her. He wouldn't risk hurting her for anything in the world.

He loved her too much to do it.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he folded the letter and put it back in his pocket.

* * *

One of the following nights, Tonks was on duty alongside Savage. They patrolled around the school together, on their broomsticks. Everything was very quiet.

"Did you hear about the attacks in Wales?" Savage asked at some point.

"No, I didn't," Tonks said, her interest piqued. Wales... Remus was there... "What happened?"

"Brand new developments. Haven't made it to the Prophet yet." He lowered his voice, as if trying to make it sound mysterious. "During the past full moon, a number of little children were attacked by werewolves. Rumour has it that it was meant to threaten their parents into turning to the Dark Side. You know that Fenrir Greyback is one of Voldemort's biggest supporters."

Tonks felt a chill creeping through her body.

"Are you OK?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she said unconvincingly. Remus would never attack humans – he'd rather die than have more people suffer what he suffered. He'd do anything in his power to stop these attacks; but what a great danger he'd put himself into, if he objected to following the other werewolves – it wasn't just Greyback, most of the werewolves were supporting Voldemort... And, come to think of it, when he transformed he had no awareness of what he was doing... What if the wolf in him was tempted to taste human flesh?

Her head started spinning. There was only one thing to do: contact Dumbledore.

_Or maybe get in touch with Remus directly?_

No. They hadn't talked since, technically, last year, and she still had some dignity left. When her shift was over, she'd try to get in touch with Dumbledore. That was it.

* * *

Once she was back home, at around ten in the morning, she pulled out her wand to send her Patronus to Dumbledore. When she performed the spell, though, only a faint silver cloud came out.

_Weird, _she thought. She had never had problems with the Patronus Charm. She tried again. The cloud came out even fainter.

She concentrated harder. _A happy memory, _she said to herself. _The day I got my Auror's licence._

The silver cloud came out again. Tonks exhaled heavily and closed her eyes. Remus's face was floating in her head. It was all his fault, again. He kept her mind so worried that her Patronus couldn't find any positive feelings to step on and come out.

She concentrated harder and tried again and again. Eventually, after several failed attempts, she decided to just go to Hogwarts and find Dumbledore.

* * *

Apparently, though, it wasn't her lucky day. He wasn't in his office. Tonks decided to take a stroll around the castle, in case he was somewhere around there, when she bumped into...

"Harry?"

She saw him suddenly appear, obviously just having dropped his Invisibility cloak, hopping for a moment on one leg and then collapsing on the floor.

"What're you doing here?" he said, scrambling to his feet again.

"I came to see Dumbledore."

"His office isn't here, it's round the other side of the castle, behind the gargoyle -"

"I know. He's not there. Apparently he's gone away again."

"Has he?" he said, putting his bruised foot gingerly back on the floor. "Hey — you don't know where he goes, I suppose?"

"No."

"What did you want to see him about?"

Unconsciously, she started picking at the sleeve of her robe. "Nothing in particular. I just thought he might know what's going on. I've heard rumours... people getting hurt."

"Yeah, I know, it's all been in the papers," Harry was saying now. "That little kid trying to kill his -"

"The Prophet's often behind the times," Tonks said, deep in thought, barely paying attention. "You haven't had any letters from anyone in the Order recently?"

She didn't want to ask directly about Remus, but if anyone sent letters to Harry, it was bound to be him. He loved this boy – he was his best friend's son, after all, and they all said how much Harry took after James, and Remus missed James a lot...

She felt her eyes filling with tears at the thought of Remus. _I'm hopeless._

Suddenly, she became aware of Harry's awkward look and realised she had missed his answer.

"What?" she said blankly, as she tried to call to mind what he had said while she had been brooding. Not much had registered, but at least she was quite sure that he had said he had received no letters. "Well. I'll see you around, Harry."

And she turned abruptly and walked back down the corridor, leaving Harry to stare after her.

* * *

She returned to her flat frustrated to no end, on the verge of crying. First thing she did was go to the bathroom and splash some cold water on her face. Then, leaning on the sink, she closed her eyes and took some deep breaths, in an attempt to compose herself.

She opened her eyes again. Her picture was staring back at her from the mirror; a red-eyed, unhealthily scrawny face, gracelessly framed by mousy brown hair.

"Look at you," the mirror reprimanded her. "You look horrible."

"Thank you," she spat and looked away. Her gaze travelled through the open bathroom door and fell on the fireplace. She rarely used it as a means of communication, because it required Floo Powder to work, and she was notorious about her inability to use Floo Powder correctly – as in, store it somewhere and remember where afterwards, or throw it in the fireplace without spilling half of the dosage on the carpet. However, since she was unable to produce a Patronus, she was willing to take what she could get.

She went through all the bathroom cabinets, but there was nothing there apart from healing ointments and therapeutic potions. She cursed loudly at knocking over a large container, which was filled with a red, liquid analgesic that left blood-like stains on the rug, and after a quick Cleaning Spell that did little to clean the stains, she continued her search in the kitchen.

Finally, after bringing the flat to a state of complete disorder, she discovered a small bottle of Floo Powder in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. She grasped it and walked very carefully to the fireplace, kneeling in front of it. Then, she used her wand to light a fire and proceeded with throwing a pinch of Floo Powder in.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!" she called and put her head inside the now emerald-green fire. It whirled and spun until she found herself staring at the Headquarters' empty kitchen. "Hello? Anybody here?"

Nobody appeared. Tonks made a discontented face at the thought that the first time she used Floo Powder correctly was to visit an empty house. Then, she drew her head out of the fireplace and tried again, this time her destination being the Burrow.

"Molly? Arthur? Anyone?" she called, once there.

Footsteps were heard and Bill entered the room. "Who's here?"

"Bill! It's me, Tonks!"

Bill walked to the fireplace and knelt down. "Tonks? What brings you here? Is there something wrong?" He looked at her closely. "You don't look very well."

She sighed. Last thing she needed now was to be reminded of her lousy physical – and emotional –state. "I'm just worried; I heard there were werewolf attacks during the past full moon."

"Oh, you mean the Wales incidents," Bill said, his face darkening. "That was bad. I went there with Dumbledore and Elphias Doge, but we couldn't contain all the werewolves. A couple of kids got bitten, and one was killed."

"Who was it? Greyback?"

"Him, and a few others. Remus gave their names to Dumbledore."

Tonks paused for a minute, then spoke again. "How is he?"

"Remus? Don't worry about him," Bill said – a little _too _knowingly, she thought. "He's fine. Passing on loads of useful information."

"Not having problems with the other werewolves? They aren't forcing him to attack humans?" she asked, unable to completely hide all emotion from her voice.

"Nah," Bill said, shaking his head. "He's not needed. There are many more volunteers than Voldemort needs to carry out his plans."

"Oh," she said simply, very relieved now.

"And how're you doing?" Bill asked.

"Fine," she said casually.

"Are you sure?"

Tonks grimaced as a comment Molly had made some time ago sprang in the back of her mind: _'One can read the word 'RESIGNATION' all over your face.'_

"Yeah, I'm sure," she said. "Well, I have to go now... I just finished my shift and I need to get some sleep."

He nodded. "All right. I'll see you around."

"Bye."

**-End of chapter 7-**


	8. Before The Storm

Thank you for reading so far. Here is chapter 8.

**Disclaimer: **Same as in the previous chapters.

Any comments of any nature (even on typos!) will be very welcome and appreciated. I accept both signed and anonymous reviews.

I hope you enjoy.

Anna.

* * *

**-Chapter 8: Before the storm-**

Arthur Weasley was surprised to return to a completely empty Burrow that evening. He had known that Bill would dine out with Fleur, but where was Molly?

He looked all around the kitchen in case she had left a note. Nothing. His eyes fell on the magical clock; Molly's hand was pointing at 'mortal peril'. _What else is new, _he thought scornfully.

He opened the fridge and retrieved a container. Yesterday's soup. He poured some in a plate and cast a Heating Charm; the soup started sizzling and a good amount of it spilt around. Sighing in frustration, he grabbed a cloth and wiped the drips. Then, not wanting to cause another disaster, he decided to wait until it cooled down a little to eat it.

By the time Molly returned, he was done eating and was staring at the plate. Somehow, that Cleaning Spell he had performed seemed to have left it dirtier than it had originally been.

"Arthur, you're back!" she exclaimed. "Did you have dinner already?"

"I had some soup," he said, pointing at the plate.

She pulled out her wand and moved the plate to the sink. With another couple of spells, water started running and the sponge foamed and started rubbing the plate. "Sorry about that, darling," she said, taking off her travelling cloak, "but Albus contacted me totally out of the blue."

"Order assignment?"

"Sort of." She left her cloak on a chair and headed towards the fridge. "He wanted me to visit Tonks."

"She's still depressed?"

"Worse than ever." Molly served herself the remaining soup and heated it up without problems.

"Love can do that."

Molly suppressed a grin. "So, you say she's in love?"

Arthur handed his wife a spoon. "I'm sure they appreciate your keeping their secret, darling, but the rest of us are no fools." He sat in a chair near her, as she started eating. "I'm still not sure where Remus is standing, though. Sometimes I'd swear he's in love with her too."

Molly chuckled. "He _is._"

Arthur looked puzzled. "He is?"

"Yeah. But he has age, financial and werewolf issues."

Arthur shook his head in dismay. "I wouldn't expect him to be so silly."

"He calls it 'reasonable'."

"It's still silly."

"I agree."

* * *

The past few days had been quite annoying, Snape reflected. With the final Quidditch match only a few days ahead, all the students – particularly the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws – had been engaging in catfights or hexing each other in the corridors, not to mention that half the members of the teams were constantly nauseous. 

He had just settled an 'argument' between some seventh-year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, removing several points from both teams, and was now looking for Malfoy – he made sure to keep a vigilant eye upon him whenever possible – when a girl's voice coming from the boys' bathroom stopped him dead in his tracks.

"MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!"

He rushed to the door and banged it open. There lay Malfoy, in a pool of blood, bearing the unmistakable signs of being hit with a well-executed Sectumsempra curse. And, what was worse, Potter was kneeling over him and uttering in a way that suggested that he had probably been the one to cast it.

Snape shoved the boy away, drew his wand and started murmuring the countercurse to heal Malfoy. All the while, though, his blood was boiling with rage. What was Potter doing, casting such a brutal curse on a classmate with the risk of killing him? And, come to think of it, where had he found this curse anyway? It was Snape who had invented it, many years ago, when he was still a student, and it was a weapon he had preferred not to give away – neither his victims, nor even the Death Eaters who had seen him using it knew how to perform it. And now seeing it cast by _Potter_?

When the countercurse healed everything it could, Snape half-lifted Malfoy into a standing position.

"You need the hospital wing," he said. "There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that... Come..." He supported him across the bathroom. Once at the door, he turned around and, trying to hide his fury under a layer of coldness, he spoke. "And you, Potter... You wait here for me."

He helped Malfoy to the hospital wing, and, after briefly explaining to Madam Pomfrey what treatment he would need, he returned to the bathroom. Harry was there, slightly shaking, a look of terror in his eyes.

Snape ordered Moaning Myrtle away – who, after alerting him about the incident, had been wailing and howling in a most irritating way – and turned to Harry.

"I didn't mean it to happen," the boy said quickly. "I didn't know what that spell did."

That was little comfort for Snape. "Apparently I underestimated you, Potter." He was now speaking calmly, having had the time to regain composure. "Who would have thought you knew such Dark Magic? Who taught you that spell?"

"I – read about it somewhere."

_Read. _The word triggered his memory. Of course, he hadn't told anyone... but he _had _noted it somewhere...

"Where?" he inquired, wondering what Potter would be ready to spill.

"It was – a library book. I can't remember what it was call-"

"Liar." So Harry Potter was not as brave as his father, it seemed. Snape was sure that, had it been James Potter in these shoes, he would have boldly stated the source of the spell at once – and then tried to put the blame on the creator of the spell.

Snape gazed into Harry's eyes, trying to invade into his mind. The boy was showing more resistance than in their previous encounters, but Snape could make out a memory of an abused Advanced Potion-Making book – _his _Advanced Potion-Making book.

"Bring me your schoolbag and all of your schoolbooks," he said. "All of them. Bring them to me here. Now!"

Harry turned at once and splashed out of the bathroom. When he was alone in the bathroom, Snape allowed a smug smile to spread over his face.

He should have guessed. That explained Slughorn's insistent praising of Potter's potion-making, while the boy hadn't shown any special talent in the past five years. Somehow he had got hold of his old book – probably forgot his own and borrowed one from the cupboard... It was ironic, really. Snape had forgotten he had left it there; he hadn't used it in years. How many times, though, had he wondered what would happen if the book reached somebody else's hands... With every word he added in, this question floated in his mind. And of all the people who could have come across it...

Yet, the thought of Potter with his book felt, in some way... satisfying. Potter was putting everything into use; his improved Potion recipes, his practical advice – he had thought of feeding a bezoar to the poisoned Weasley boy... no wonder where he had got the clue from – and even his spells. Obviously, putting blindly his trust in the Half-Blood Prince, because he was not the kind of boy to use such a vile curse of his own accord. Snape wondered, what would Potter do if he found out whose had that book originally been?

If anyone had watched their relationship since the first time their paths crossed, some five and a half years ago, they would have concluded that there was mutual hatred between the two of them. And they'd be wrong. True, Harry Potter hated Severus Snape with all his might – and had some good reasons to. But Snape's loathing did not emerge that much from the boy itself, but rather from what he represented for him: Years of being laughed at. A miserable past that still haunted his nightmares. A failure that had left a great moral debt and responsibility on his shoulders.

Potter would soon be back with his books. And, Snape was sure, Weasley or Granger's copy of Advanced Potion-Making. It was better this way; Potter had a mission ahead of him, and he needed all the help he could get. As Severus Snape, he'd be unable to help him – but as the Half-Blood Prince, he could provide him with some useful tricks to fight the Dark Lord.

Still... he couldn't let him get away with it. First, because he could not afford to earn himself any strange looks from the Death Eaters for leaving Harry Potter unpunished after he had nearly killed Draco Malfoy. And second, because objectively, using such a curse on a student had to mean detention. An awful detention, at that. McGonagall would support him wholeheartedly. Besides, paying for the consequences of his action would also help Potter learn from his mistakes: _Never_ use a spell before trying it on an inanimate object first. _Never _trust blindly what you've been given.

Yes, he and Potter were on the same side. He would protect the boy, giving up his life if he needed to. But protection and leniency were two different things... different and very much unrelated.

* * *

Dumbledore looked at the sallow-faced man with an expression of good-natured astonishment. 

"I have always had a very high opinion of you, Severus," he said seriously, "but after what you just told me I am starting to think I had actually underestimated you."

"You could never have," Snape voiced his trust in the elderly wizard.

"Maybe not the wizard in you, but I surely have underestimated the person. Your will to help Harry never ceases to amaze me, especially since I know everything that happened with James."

Snape's face darkened. "I owe it to him. And, besides, you could hardly call me lenient. Potter is going to miss the Quidditch final."

"This is sad," Dumbledore said earnestly. "But, seeing it strictly from the aspect of what he did, it is a reasonable price to pay. You are right; he must learn to be more cautious with handling magic."

Snape spoke slowly, in a low voice, not meeting Dumbledore's eyes. "...That was a very Dark curse."

"I beg to differ."

Dumbledore's serious, calm tone made Snape look up and face him again.

"It might look bad," the elder man continued. "But let us not forget that what makes a curse good or bad is the purpose it serves, rather than its nature." To prove his point, he flicked his wand and made an apple appear out of thin air. Then, he pointed at it, and said quietly "Sectumsempra." The apple sliced in two.

With a pleasant smile, he offered one of the pieces to Snape.

* * *

A couple of weeks passed. Dumbledore, who had suspected that one of the Horcruxes was hidden in the cave where young Tom Riddle used to terrorise his victims, spent the best part of them trying to locate it. In the end, his research paid; when he returned to Hogwarts that evening, it was with the certainty that he had, eventually, discovered it. 

Once he entered the school grounds, he conjured his Patronus, a silver, glowing phoenix, and sent it to Severus Snape with a message: 'Meet me at my office.' By the time he entered his office, the younger man was already there.

"Professor!" he exclaimed, sounding relieved. "I was afraid something bad happened to you."

Dumbledore gave him a sad smile. "Not yet." He made a move towards his chair, took of his travelling cloak and haphazardly hung it on its back. "But I suspect that something will, very soon, which is why I wanted to see you."

Snape nodded, his face full of anxiousness.

"I shall be leaving with Harry very shortly," Dumbledore continued. "There is a very dangerous venture I have to make, one I am not certain I will survive. If I do, though -"

"I shall heal you."

"You will _kill _me."

"No!"

Dumbledore's face became stern. Snape lowered his head. They had discussed this many times, always planning about 'later'. Since the beginning, he had dreaded the day when there would be no more 'later', and now this day had finally arrived.

"It is time," the elder man went on. "Time for you to shatter any scepticism about your loyalty to Voldemort, and make yourself the most respected among his followers. The Order will miss its spy, but your new status will render you safer, while putting you in the perfect position to help our side during the final battle."

"But, if the Order is not aware of my purpose -"

"Harry will be, and he is the only one who needs to be. The Order is merely seeking to contain Death Eater attacks and help keep everyone safe. The one who will act directly against Voldemort will be Harry, and it is _his _team that you will be joining from now on. Which brings us back to why I originally called you here."

Dumbledore walked to the cabinet beside the door to retrieve the Pensieve, which he then placed on the desk.

"In order for Harry to be assured of where your true loyalty lies, we shall put here some of our memories for him to see. I shall then enchant the Pensieve, to ensure that no one else has access to them."

Snape nodded, his face even whiter than usual.

"Firstly, I want your memories from the day Sirius Black sent you after Lupin."

Snape swallowed hard, looking for all the world as if he were ready to faint. Then, he pulled out his wand, put its tip on his temple and, after concentrating for a moment, retrieved a memory, which he gently placed inside the Pensieve. He then repeated this course of action for another memory.

"Excellent," Dumbledore commented. "Next, I shall provide him with my memory from the day you decided to leave Voldemort's side and came to find me."

So he did. Snape watched intently.

"I now need your memory of your attempt to kill Voldemort."

"I had been wearing James Potter's Invisibility Cloak," Snape pointed out. "He will be unable to see me."

"He will be able to hear your voice," Dumbledore countered.

Snape surrendered the memory.

"Do you think he should see the memory of your coming to see me afterwards?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape shifted uncomfortably. "If you think so, Professor."

"Then, I shall provide him with it." After placing the memory in the Pensieve, he spoke again. "Last memory I shall ask you for is the one from when we first discussed our plan, early in June."

Snape's face seemed to relax a little when he finished this.

"As soon as you leave the room, I shall also add the memory of this conversation. Now please return to your study."

For a moment, Snape stared at the elder man without speaking, his eyes revealing concern mixed with admiration. "Goodbye, Professor," he finally whispered and headed to the door. He didn't look back when Dumbledore, in a broken voice, bade his own goodbye.

Once alone in the room, Dumbledore took a moment to compose himself, then proceeded with leaving the last memory in the Pensieve and magically shutting it. Afterwards, he wrote some notes, which he stored on the top drawer of his desk, and two short messages. He magically glued the first to the Pensieve, before putting it back on the cabinet beside the door, and put the second in his pocket.

For a minute, he sat in his chair, thinking. This year, he had spent a good part of his time away from the school, always feeling quite uneasy at the thought, but knowing he would always be able to return should an emergency occur. This time, though, he didn't know what lay ahead of him – although, judging by the last Horcrux, it was bound to be something horrible. He would be leaving the school without his protection... what if something happened during his absence?

With that in mind, he opened the bottom drawer of his desk and retrieved a parchment with the design of a big phoenix on it. He touched the phoenix with his wand and said his name; the phoenix disappeared and the Members Schedule appeared. Outside of Snape and McGonagall, three people were available at this hour: Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks and Bill Weasley.

He conjured his Patronus and instructed it to pass a message to all three of them: "I shall be leaving Hogwarts shortly, and I want you to be here, patrolling the school, during my absence."

A couple of minutes later, three Patronuses appeared in his office, all carrying promises that their masters would be there as soon as possible. Content, Dumbledore turned his attention to one of the portraits on the wall.

"Armando," he said, "would you be so kind as to inform Minerva and Filius that I would like to see them?"

The man in the picture opened his eyes. "Of course, Albus," he said and left the painting. As soon as he did, Fawkes the phoenix flew near Dumbledore. The man extended his withered hand for the bird to perch on it.

"Fawkes, my good friend," he said softly, stroking Fawkes's head. "It is time to say goodbye."

Fawkes long tail swung, rubbing gently Dumbledore's arm, and the bird started singing a beautiful, mellow song. The moment it was over, someone knocked at the door.

"Enter," Dumbledore said, hiding all emotion of his face. Fawkes returned to its golden perch behind the door.

McGonagall and Flitwick entered the room. It took Dumbledore a great deal of strength to appear composed in front of them. They had been his colleagues and friends for years – decades, actually – and here he was, knowing it was probably the last time he saw them, unable to bid them farewell.

"Minerva, Filius," he said. "I must leave the school for a few hours. I shall ask you to be patrolling the corridors during this time, in case something occurs. Nymphadora, Remus and Bill Weasley have also been informed and will be here soon."

"Sure, Albus," McGonagall said.

"Anything you need, Albus," Flitwick seconded.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said earnestly. "By the way, Minerva...?" He produced the note he had earlier put in his pocket. "Could you make sure this reaches Harry Potter?"

"Of course, Albus. Excuse me," she said and exited the room.

Flitwick followed her. "Have a safe trip," he called to Dumbledore light-heartedly, before Charming the door closed.

**-End of chapter 8-**


	9. Know Your Ally

Thank you for reading so far. Here is chapter 9.

**Disclaimer: **Same as in the previous chapters.

Any comments of any nature (even on typos!) will be very welcome and appreciated. I accept both signed and anonymous reviews.

I hope you enjoy.

Anna.

* * *

**-Chapter 9: Know your ally-**

Snape paced nervously up and down his study. He had been incapable of concentrating on anything but the impending doom – because, whatever Dumbledore said to the contrary, his death would be a real disaster. The end of an era. The loss of a great wizard and a kind spirit many had looked up to, and whose presence had been a blessing for the wizarding world.

Apart from that, though, Snape had more reasons, selfish ones, but reasons all the same, to feel so sorry about this loss. Dumbledore had been his refuge when his world had come crashing down, he had honoured him with his trust and had given him a second chance – and, what was more, convinced others to give him a second chance too. His death would signal Snape's return to an environment he hated, where he would have to pretend to be someone he loathed and act as the most trusted servant of a master he wished to see dead, his only ally the son of a man who was nothing but a memory anymore, yet continued to torture him and haunt his mind. That debt... that _horrible _debt... Had Snape known what would follow, had he known his life was going to be eternally loaded with guilt, he would have gone back and thrown himself to the werewolf.

No, that was a lie. He wouldn't have. His teenage self valued his life too much. But, growing up, he had come to comprehend the real meaning of what Dumbledore always used to say: 'There are fates worse than death.'

Yes, there were indeed. His own fate was a perfect example of that. Yet, there was always hope for salvation. Dumbledore had taught him that, too. Dumbledore had taught him so much – it was unbearable to think that, very soon, he wouldn't be around anymore...

"Death Eaters in the castle! Death Eaters in the castle!"

Professor Flitwick's screams interrupted his musings. Before he could register what had happened, the tiny man barged in the room. "Severus!" he shrieked. "There are Death Eaters in the castle! You have to come back with me, help me fight them!"

_Of all days! _Snape thought furiously. Of all days, Draco Malfoy had chosen to attack the exact day when Dumbledore was unable to defend the castle. It could be nothing but a coincidence, albeit a very unnerving one.

_Time to put the mask on, _he reminded himself.

As Flitwick turned to hurry outside the room, Snape quickly drew his wand and cast a nonverbal Stunning Spell. The tiny man fell on the floor and Snape rushed outside, where he came face to face with Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood.

"You two!" he exclaimed, letting his anxiety show – he didn't care what the girls were doing there, he needed to get them out of harm's way, while at the same time making his act more convincing. "Professor Flitwick collapsed, he's in my office, go take care of him – and do _not _get out of that room! There are Death Eaters in the castle... I'll go help fighting them."

They obeyed. Left alone in the corridor, he looked around helplessly – where was he supposed to go? – and spotted a red trail down on the floor. Flitwick had been bleeding. He followed the trail up several flights of stairs and reached the top corridor. A raging battle was going on in there – Order members and some students versus a number of Death Eaters.

Nobody seemed to notice him. He saw Neville Longbottom charge towards the staircase leading to the Astronomy Tower and being thrown away.

"They've blocked the stairs!" That was Nymphadora Tonks. "Reducto! REDUCTO!" Her jinxes, though, bounced off an invisible barrier. As she was focused on destroying the barrier, a Death Eater found the chance to cast a jinx towards her, but Remus Lupin blocked it mid-way with a Deflective Charm.

Snape now knew that the key was to reach the Astronomy Tower. Having a pretty good idea of how the Death Eaters had blocked the staircase, he rushed towards it. His guess was right; he felt a momentary stinging in his left wrist, where the Dark Mark was carved, but he wasn't pushed back.

He reached the top of the staircase and shoved the ramparts open. There were three Death Eaters, four with Draco Malfoy, and Dumbledore, slumped against the wall... where was Potter? He was supposed to be accompanying the Headmaster – but of course, Snape then realised, he was under his Invisibility Cloak, probably waiting for the right moment to attack.

Amycus, one of the Death Eaters, addressed him. "We've got a problem, Snape, the boy doesn't seem able..."

"Severus..." a soft voice called. It was Dumbledore.

Snape walked forwards, shoving Malfoy out of the way. The eyes of the two men met. Interpreting correctly Dumbledore's pleading expression, Snape performed Legilimency. Dumbledore was showing him a memory...

'_You _agreed _to do it, and that is all there is to it.'_

_I agreed to do it,_ he repeated to himself firmly. He gathered all the hatred he could find in himself, the better to perform a deadly curse. But Dumbledore was now showing him another memory...

'_I can help you, Draco.'_

'_No, you can't. Nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me. I've got no choice.'_

'_Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban... when the time comes we can protect him too... come over to the right side, Draco... you are not a killer...'_

Snape understood.

"Severus... please..." Dumbledore said. It had only been moments that they had been communicating in silence – the memories didn't take place in real time – but even a few moments' hesitation could prove to be disastrous.

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.

"Avada Kedavra!"

No zooming sound; the curse had failed to be lethal. His inner wish to keep Dumbledore alive had prevailed. Yet, it came out, green like the Dark Mark hovering above, and hit Dumbledore in the chest... forcefully enough to throw him down the Tower.

He wouldn't survive the fall.

"Out of here, quickly," he said to the Death Eaters, his mind set to the plan. _Dumbledore's death must not go in vain. _He seized Draco by the scruff of the neck and forced him through the door ahead of the rest; the other three Death Eaters followed.

As they headed down the staircase, Snape heard Potter's voice calling "Petrificus Totalus!" and being followed by the loud thump of a stunned body falling. He didn't look back, but continued to run, all the while keeping firm grip on Draco.

They reached the corridor; half the ceiling had collapsed and a cloud of dust was in the air. Rushing his and Draco's way through the Order members, he called to the Death Eaters "It's over, time to go!" They had caused enough havoc already; the less they stayed, the better.

Draco remained silent during their way towards the grounds. Thankfully. Snape's mind was racing with another thought: how to approach him, once they were somewhere safe. Dumbledore wanted him by the Order's side. The boy obviously had some morality left, but who knows what corrosion his soul had suffered, after all these years of being under evil's influence?

Once out of the castle, he sprinted towards the gates. As he passed Hagrid's hut, the big man came out and attacked a Death Eater that had been following them. He ignored them and continued to run, but then a jet of red light passed right beside his head. "Run, Draco!" he shouted and turned around. Sure enough, there was Potter, twenty yards away.

"Cruc-"

Before the boy could complete his curse, Snape knocked him off with a spell of his own. How foolishly innocent, thinking that he could perform an Unforgivable Curse.

He watched him stumble back on his feet. Behind the boy, a Death Eater was setting fire on Hagrid's hut. Snape clenched his fists in unspoken hatred towards that beast that meant to destroy Hogwarts.

"Cruc-"

Acting quickly, Snape repelled the curse again. This time, a sneer escaped his lips. "No Unforgivables from you, Potter!" he shouted. "You haven't got the nerve or the ability -"

"Incarc-"

This was getting easier by the minute. How long would it take Potter to _understand?_

"Fight back!" he heard him scream. "Fight back, you cowardly -"

A memory from a day dating years ago flashed in his mind. He quickly blocked it away.

"Coward, did you call me, Potter? Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?"

"Stupe-"

_You'd think he would have taken the hint by now, _Snape thought, easily deflecting this curse too. "Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!" he sneered and diverted his gaze to the Death Eater who was fighting with Hagrid. "Now come!" he shouted at him. "It is time to be gone, before the Ministry turns up -"

"Impedi-"

In the split second Snape had been distracted, Amycus had approached Harry and performed the Cruciatus Curse on him.

"No!" Snape bellowed at him, lifting the curse from the boy. "Have you forgotten our orders? Potter belongs to the Dark Lord – we are to leave him! Go! Go!"

He watched Amycus, his sister and the other Death Eater head outside and turned his attention to Harry. With hard effort, the boy managed to get back on his feet.

"Sectum-"

_Not this one! _Snape thought furiously as he repelled it. The times when he would allow his spells to be used against him were long gone.

Harry tried a nonverbal approach, but the spell he chose Snape could recognise all too well, and any pleasure the man had ever felt about seeing his spells being put into use vanished in an instant as a memory of being hung upside down, many years ago, flashed momentarily in his mind.

"No, Potter!" he screamed, boiling with rage. Unable to control himself any longer, Snape produced such a powerful Shield Charm that Harry flew backwards and landed with a loud bang. Before he knew what he was doing, Snape strode towards him, towards the boy that was growing up to torment him just like his father had.

"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter?" he spat, his voice dripping with hatred. "It was I who invented them – I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so... no."

Harry dove for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew away from the boy's reach.

"Kill me then," Harry panted boldly. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward -"

For a fraction of a second, Snape found himself in another place and time.

"_No, no, Sirius, that's enough," James Potter was saying, a sickening glint in his eyes. "Let's give him a moment to compose himself."_

_Snape staggered on his feet – they were barely supporting him. His head was spinning and his skin was red and felt terribly itchy. His fingers were clumsily holding the wand – he felt like he was going to drop it any second now._

"_So, Snivelly?" the black haired, hazel eyed boy asked, casually tapping his elbow with his wand. The tentacles that had sprung from there withered and disappeared. "Got another curse for me?"_

_Snape glared at the four boys standing in front of him and tried to raise his hand. His wrist merely quivered and he stopped trying, focusing instead on keeping firm grip on his wand._

"_I'll make it easy for you." James Potter took a step closer and threw away his wand – Sirius Black caught it in mid-air. "Come on, nothing for me?"_

_Snape gritted his teeth and looked at the boy in front of him with an expression of utmost loathing – but his hand felt ready to tear in pieces at the slightest movement._

"_Coward," the boy spat._

"DON'T CALL ME A COWARD!" Snape screamed, flinging nonverbally a curse towards Harry.

The black haired, green eyed boy fell back on the ground. Snape's breathing evened and his expression seemed to relax at the sight of the blood oozing from the boy's cheek. The wound was not bad, but the way he had fallen was guaranteed to give him an ugly headache.

_I owed you that, too, James Potter._

A flapping sound was heard from a distance and seemed to be approaching. Startled, Snape looked around and saw a huge, grey figure flying towards him. A hippogriff.

The animal let out a screech. Snape turned on his heel and ran towards the gates. The hippogriff pursued him until he exited the Hogwarts grounds and Disapparated.

He Apparated not far away from the school, but out of everyone's sight. He needed to find Draco. The boy had obviously Disapparated after exiting the grounds, but where had he gone?

Deciding that his best choice was the Malfoy Mansion, he Apparated outside it. Through the bars of the imposing gates he saw Draco sitting on the marble stairs leading to the front door.

"Draco!"

The boy looked up and, with a weary gesture of his wrist, cast a spell to open the gates. Snape hurried near him and sat by his side.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Draco panted. "I'll be fine."

"Is your mother here?"

The boy did not reply. Snape noticed anger lying behind his tired expression.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

"You're asking what's wrong!" Draco exploded. "You _killed _him!"

Snape stared, dumbfounded. Could Draco be regretting Dumbledore's death...?

"I had him _there_, why didn't you let me do it?" the boy continued. "The Dark Lord will have my and my mother's head for this!"

Snape understood. "Where can we talk?" he asked in a low, stern voice.

"Nowhere," the boy spat.

"_Where can we talk?_" Snape repeated, more slowly and with a hint of menace in his voice.

Fuming, Draco rose and, hurling the door to the mansion open, led Snape inside the roomy and luxurious sitting room. Narcissa Malfoy, dressed in a simple, light blue robe, her blond hair in a bun, was coming down the stairs.

"Draco..."

"Go away!" the boy ordered. "Leave us alone."

"But -"

"I said _go away!_"

Her pale face whitened even more, but she turned on her heel and returned to her room.

"So?" Draco sneered at Snape.

Before answering, Snape waved his wand around. White sparks erupted and spread around the room, shutting all windows and doors and then disappearing inside the walls to soundproof them. "Just for good measure," he added as he sat on one of the velvet, gold-trimmed sofas.

Draco took a seat on another sofa, keeping eye contact. "So?" he repeated.

Snape spoke slowly, deliberately. "What exactly is your problem?"

"My _problem,_" Draco said, his features hard and threatening, "is that you _put my family in danger_, and you'd better think of a way to fix that. Or, you'll die."

Snape could not suppress a sneer. "_I'll _die?"

"Yes, for failing to protect me. Do not forget the Unbreakable Vow you made."

"I do not." Snape took a moment to prepare himself, then continued. "The only way to protect yourself and your mother from the Dark Lord's rage is to turn your back to him."

Draco rose from his seat, his expression one of sheer incredulity. "Are you out of your mind?"

"No, I am not," Snape said, unable to hide his amusement.

"What good will that do me?"

Snape rose from his seat too, his armed hand hidden inside his pocket. "If you do it, you and your family will have a chance to survive, without having to bow before the Dark Lord anymore."

"And who says we don't want to bow before the Dark Lord?"

"I know _you_ don't," he said, circling around the coffee table and nearing Draco. "You don't want to follow anyone's orders. You want to be responsible for your actions, you don't want the Dark Lord or anyone else bossing you around! And -" he approached Draco even more and hissed inside his ear "- you secretly want him dead for threatening to kill you and your family."

Draco took a step away, alarmed. "I don't!" he objected.

"You mean you are willing to stay by someone's side, just because they're threatening to kill you if you don't?"

"He is powerful," Draco dared, trying to convince himself rather than Snape. "He can do anything, being by him will make me invincible!"

"It will merely make you dependent to his word, an obedient servant whose only choices are to obey his master, or die. Is that what you want your life to be like?"

Draco pondered this for a moment. "What options do you offer?" he then asked.

"Safety. Tranquillity. And, once the Dark Lord is defeated, a life in a balanced and peaceful society."

"Among Mudbloods?" Draco scorned.

"Among people who share your powers."

Draco eyed Snape suspiciously. "What happened to you?" he asked.

Snape only smirked.

"Is this some kind of testing my loyalty to the Dark Lord?"

"The only reason why I care about where your loyalty lies is so that I can take the appropriate measures," he assured him, the smirk still on his lips. He clutched his wand harder. If Draco proved to be so loyal to the Dark Lord, a good Oblivion Spell would be on its way.

Draco's stared at the pale-faced man, his expression revealing perplexity and a bit of fear. "Whose side are you on?" he breathed.

"The only thing that matters now is whose side _you _are on," Snape said. "Will you support a man who will not hesitate to kill you, should he decide he is not satisfied with your work? A man who would blackmail you into committing terrible crimes in exchange for your parents' lives?"

Draco gulped. "What will you do, if I say I won't?"

"I shall ask you whether you trust me enough to put your and your mother's life in my hands."

Draco looked around helplessly for a moment, then turned to Snape. "Why are you asking _me _to make this choice? Why aren't you asking my mother instead?"

"Because I already know her choice. She values you more than the Dark Lord."

Draco remained silent for a long minute.

"So?" Snape prompted.

_It's not like it can get any worse, _Draco thought in resignation. "OK. We're with you."

"Good," Snape said and cast a spell that undid the locked and soundproof status of the room. Moments later, Narcissa came rushing down the stairs.

"Severus, Draco... what is this all about?"

"Your son has just decided to renounce the Malfoy family's loyalty to the Dark Lord," Snape informed her.

Her gaze flew from Snape to Draco. She looked positively bewildered.

"It's better this way, Narcissa," Snape said softly. "Draco did not kill Dumbledore; the Dark Lord would have you all killed for this failure."

"But I would have killed him if you had stayed out of this!" Draco protested. "You had it all planned, hadn't you! You cornered me, so that my only choice would be to turn to you for protection!"

"Severus -"

"Precisely," Snape said to Draco and the usual smirk formed on his lips again. "But you will come to see that it was for your own good."

"Severus, what's going on here?" Narcissa demanded.

"Tell me, Narcissa, is your desire for power stronger than your love for your son and your husband?"

Narcissa did not reply immediately, but when she did, her voice came out firm. "No."

Snape's lips curled in a small smile. "I knew you would say that." He then approached her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Your heart is purer than your blood, Narcissa. Leave the Dark Lord's side. Draco will."

"If we do..."

"I will protect you both."

Narcissa bit her lip, processing the implications of all this for a moment, and surprised even herself by deciding that this didn't look like a bad idea after all. Truth was, her loyalty to the Dark Lord had been dwindling since the moment she was informed of the mission he had entrusted Draco with. She wanted her son safe, and that was more important than anything to her. Even if it meant she should give up all the principles and beliefs she had followed since she was a little girl.

"And what about Lucius?" she only asked.

"I am sure he will be glad to join you if he gets out of Azkaban. You were right that day, Narcissa; the Dark Lord had indeed chosen Draco in order to punish Lucius. And I am sure that Lucius is not so stupid as to return to such a master."

"We are stalling," Draco said impatiently.

"All right." Snape took a few steps away from the Malfoys and drew out his wand. "I will perform the Fidelius Charm on the two of you and the house. As long as you stay in the building or the garden, you are invisible to everyone, except for me and anyone else I might tell the secret. Which means nobody," he added, at Draco's sceptical look. "Even if someone enters the house, they will not be able to see you, touch you, hear the noises you make, see footsteps you leave, or any other traces that suggest you are here. I will be visiting you frequently to make sure everything is going well." He took a look around. "Is there anybody else in here?"

"No," Narcissa said.

"All right."

He took a minute to concentrate and, when he felt ready, started to wave his wand in big circles while chanting the first incantation of the charm in his head. Silver and golden sparkles erupted from the tip of his wand and exploded towards all directions.

Snape held his wand up, now murmuring another incantation in a low voice. Colourful beams from all around the house reached its tip, from where they redirected themselves to Narcissa and Draco. For some seconds mother and son were doused in light, until the beams disappeared.

Now he extended his hand and held his wand horizontally, murmuring the last incantation the charm required. Narcissa and Draco started to glow. After a while, the glowing light turned to sparkles that flew to Snape and his body absorbed them. For a split second, he shone in shades of silver and gold, his hand slightly trembling. Then, the light disappeared.

Snape finished the incantation and lowered his hand, feeling drained by the hard mental effort this spell required.

"Done," he said. "You are safe now. Remember, do not leave this place, or the spell will be lifted."

Narcissa reached out to embrace Draco. He did not object to it. Once in each other's arms, tears welled up in their eyes.

Trying to hold them back, Narcissa turned to Snape. "Thank you."

Snape only nodded at her as he made to leave the mansion.

**-End of chapter 9-**

**A/N: **Apologies in advance if chapter 10 takes longer than a week to be posted... I haven't finished working on it yet, and I don't have much time to dedicate to it.

Again, thanks for reading so far! Please take the time to review!


	10. Dawning

Thank you for reading so far. Here is chapter 10... ready, at last! I swear, it's all the last scene's fault. I'd been working on it since September and couldn't make it work. I think it works well now... but if you have any comments to make, about it or anything else in the story, don't hesitate to leave me a review.

**Disclaimer: **Same as usual. Please note that this chapter contains a number of lines and quotes directly taken from her book "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince".

Also, I owe some thankies to a few more people:

- To Gloria, for giving me a helping hand with this.

- To Eleni and Carole, for reading and liking it.

A few more notes will follow under the end of the story. For now, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

**-Chapter 10: Dawning-**

Shortly after Snape and Draco Malfoy rushed down the stairs of the Astronomy Tower, the Death Eaters who had been up there came down. Through the debris of the crashed ceiling and the jinxes that were being thrown all around, they made their way towards the staircase leading to the grounds. Soon, the rest of the Death Eaters started retreating and heading to the same direction.

"No!" McGonagall called out to Tonks, who made to follow them. "Let them leave!"

"But what if they run into other kids?"

"They won't, the kids are in their dormitories. Besides, Severus, Harry and Hagrid are down there, they'll defend Hogwarts if they try to do any harm." She then spotted the broken chandelier on the floor; it had crashed down when the ceiling had collapsed. She fixed it quickly, lighted it and set it to float around the room, so as to provide them with some light.

"Where's Filius?" Remus asked, treating a bleeding scratch on his arm. "He didn't come back from going to alert Severus."

Tonks bent over Neville. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly.

"Hurt," he mumbled with difficulty.

"He has to go to the hospital wing," she said to McGonagall.

"Bill too," McGonagall said, feeling his pulse, sorrow overwhelming her as she stared at the young man's slaughtered face.

"Ginny, are you all right?" Remus asked the red-haired girl.

She didn't speak. Her eyes were fixed at her eldest brother, her expression full of horror. Ron approached her and put his arm around her shoulder.

Footsteps were heard from the stairway across the corridor. Everybody looked up. Luna's blond head appeared.

"It's safe, Hermione," they heard her say, "come on."

Luna approached them. Behind her, Hermione followed, levitating carefully Flitwick's unconscious body.

"What happened to him?" McGonagall asked.

"He collapsed in Professor Snape's office," Hermione explained. "He was hurt in the head. His leg was bleeding too, but I managed to stop it."

"Leave him on the floor, please."

Hermione did.

"Rennervate," McGonagall said, pointing at Flitwick. A ray of red light hit him on the chest, but nothing happened. Gathering more force, she repeated the spell more loudly. Still nothing. McGonagall started growing frustrated. Then, a thought occurred to her. "Finite incantantum," she tried.

Flitwick's eyes fluttered open. "What's going on?" he asked in his squeaky voice.

"Didn't you say he _collapsed_?" McGonagall asked Hermione, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes..." Hermione stuttered. "I don't understand..."

"Filius, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Minerva..." He sat up, rubbing his head. "Things are a little blurry, though."

"You should go get some rest," she said.

"No..." He made an effort to rise. "I need to check upon my kids... what if the Death Eaters attacked them?"

"Filius, you're not in the position -"

"I am, but even if I weren't, it is my duty to take care of them."

"The rest of us can do this. You must take care of yourself now."

"In any case, the way to my room goes past the Ravenclaw Tower. I will check upon the kids on my way there," he said and headed for the west wing of the castle, his step unsteady, but determined.

McGonagall watched him for a moment, a frown on her face, then turned to the others. "We're all going to the hospital wing. Remus, would you please carry Neville, and I'll take care of Bill."

"Sure, Minerva," he said and magically picked up Neville. McGonagall did the same with Bill, and the rest of them followed them to the hospital wing.

* * *

Madam Pomfrey was shocked to hear what happened. She quickly positioned Neville on a bed and gave him a Healing Potion that made him fall into a deep sleep. Then, she started taking care of Bill's wounds. She didn't even think of telling anyone to leave; she let them all stay around and offer silent support to their friend and each other. 

McGonagall, after making sure that the wounded were being treated properly, sent Ginny outside to find Harry and went to Madam Pomfrey's office to have some privacy. She conjured her Patronus – Gryffindor's lion, which, in a very rare Patronus fashion, was glowing in golden instead of silver colours – and instructed it to contact Molly and Arthur and give them the sad news of their eldest son's injury. It had just vanished when the door barged open and Hagrid came in, his face hidden behind a large, spotted handkerchief.

"Professor McGonagall..." he sobbed. "Sorry ter bother yeh. Was lookin' for Poppy." A sniff escaped him. "Thought she could take care o' him."

"Of whom?"

"P... Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid explained, drowning another sob.

"He's here?" she asked, surprised. "Is he all right?"

This question made Hagrid burst into loud wailing.

"Hagrid, calm down," she said, alarmed, and approached him. "What happened?"

Hagrid blew his nose into his handkerchief and turned to look at McGonagall, his eyes red. "He... he's dead."

"I beg your pardon?" McGonagall exclaimed, certain she had heard wrong.

"He's dead, I saw him, he fell down the Astronomy Tower."

She clapped her mouth with both hands. "Merlin's beard..." she mumbled, her whole body shivering.

"Some kids've gathered 'round, there's the Dark Mark above him... Harry said he saw him fall... And he said summat abou' Snape being involved..."

McGonagall drew in a deep breath. "Well... if that's what happened..." she said slowly, trying to make herself believe it. Then she addressed Hagrid. "Poppy has more... urgent matters to take care of. I will need you to... move him. Take him to your hut, and... leave him there to rest. Also, I want Professor Sprout to get the kids back to their beds, and Professor Slughorn to inform the Ministry that the Death Eaters attacked us and that..." She suppressed a sob. "Oh, and please stop by Professor Flitwick's room and make sure he is taking some rest."

"All righ', Professor," he said.

"Come find me in the hospital wing when you're done."

He nodded and exited the office. McGonagall collapsed in a chair, pondering the news Hagrid had just brought.

The shock was cutting through her fiercely as a knife. How could Dumbledore be dead? He was their leader, their inspiration... She knew that he was growing old, that he wasn't immortal, yet somehow she had never come to fully realise that one day he'd leave this world... She suspected that very few of those who knew him had even tried to imagine what a world without him would be like.

Her heart was pounding. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down. Her heartbeat started slowing down and tears welled in her eyes. She produced a handkerchief and wiped them; now was not the time to get emotional.

Bracing herself, she headed to the hospital wing. On her way there, she could hear a song coming from a distance. When she entered the room, where a window was open, she recognised it; it was Fawkes, mourning Dumbledore. Everyone in the room was listening intently, letting the song's soothing effect sink in.

She sighed inaudibly and spoke, mentally cursing herself for having to bring them all back to this cruel reality. "Molly and Arthur are on their way." She turned to Harry, who was rubbing his eyes. "Harry, what happened? According to Hagrid you were with Professor Dumbledore when he – when it happened. He says Professor Snape was involved in some -"

"Snape killed Dumbledore," Harry said.

McGonagall stared at the boy, her mind gone blank. Her legs felt weak as realisation started sinking in, and she thankfully took the chair Madam Pomfrey conjured for her. "Snape," she repeated, her thoughts coming out in a broken trail. "We all wondered... but he trusted... always... Snape... I can't believe it..."

Everyone looked gobsmacked. The news of the treason had fallen on their heads like a pile of bricks. For minutes afterwards, they all discussed him and the events of not so long ago, then they fell silent, still processing the aftermath of this night.

They had started drifting off, listening to Fawkes's lament, when the sound of the doors bursting open caused them all to jump. Molly, Arthur and Fleur entered the room.

McGonagall rushed to their sides. "Molly – Arthur – I am so sorry -"

"Bill," Molly whispered, oblivious to everyone's presence as she ran to her son. "Oh, Bill!"

Remus and Tonks got up hastily and retreated, to allow Molly and Arthur to get nearer to the bed. Molly bent over her son and pressed her lips to his bloody forehead.

Arthur stayed near McGonagall. "You said Greyback attacked him?" he asked her, his eyes fixed on his son. "But he hadn't transformed? So what does that mean? What will happen to Bill?"

"We don't yet know," said Professor McGonagall, looking helplessly at Remus.

"There will probably be some contamination, Arthur," he said. "It is an odd case, possibly unique... We don't know what his behaviour might be like when he awakens..."

"And Dumbledore..." Arthur said, his mind back to something he heard a crowd of students talk about on his way to the hospital wing. "Minerva, is it true... Is he really...?"

She nodded.

"Dumbledore gone," he whispered. His eyes fell on his wife; she was dapping on Bill's wounds with a green, nasty-smelling ointment, crying as she did so.

"Of course," she sobbed, "it doesn't matter how he looks... It's not r-really important... but he was a very handsome little b-boy... always very handsome... and he was g-going to be married!"

"And what do you mean by zat?" Fleur demanded. "What do you mean, 'he was going to be married'?"

Molly looked up, looking startled. "Well – only that -"

"You theenk Bill will not wish to marry me anymore? You theenk, because of these bites, he will not love me?"

"No, that's not what I -"

"Because 'e will! It would take more zan a werewolf to stop Bill loving me!"

Tonks glared at Remus, but he didn't notice; like everyone else, he was watching the argument between Molly and Fleur. Her features hardened as she took a step back and leaned with her back against the wall, her arms crossed above her chest.

"Well, yes, I'm sure," Molly was now saying, "but I thought perhaps – given how – how he -"

"You thought I would not weesh to marry him? Or per'aps, you hoped?" Fleur said, her nostrils flaring. "What do I care how he looks? I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk! All these scars show is zat my husband is brave! And I shall do zat!" she added fiercely, pushing Molly aside and snatching the ointment from her.

A long pause followed. Remus stole a glance at Tonks. Her lips were pursed and she was staring intently at Fleur.

Finally, Molly broke the silence. "Our Great-Auntie Muriel has a very beautiful tiara – goblin-made – which I am sure I could persuade her to lend you for the wedding," she said to Fleur. "She is very fond of Bill, you know, and it would look lovely with your hair."

"Thank you," Fleur said stiffly. "I am sure zat will be lovely."

And then, the two women fell on each other's arms, crying.

That was too much for Tonks to take. "You see!" she said, glaring at Lupin. "She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!"

"It's different," he replied, barely moving his lips, feeling tense as suddenly everyone turned to look at him. He approached her in a vain attempt to prevent the others from following their conversation. "Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely -"

"But I don't care either, I don't care!" She seized the front of his robes and shook them. "I've told you a million times..."

"And I've told you a million times," he said, refusing to meet her eyes and staring at the floor instead, "that I am too old for you, too poor... too dangerous..."

"I've said all along you're taking a ridiculous line on this, Remus," Molly said sternly.

He turned around to face her. "I am not being ridiculous," he said steadily. "Tonks deserves somebody young and whole."

"But she wants you," Arthur said with a small smile. "And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so."

He gestured sadly at his son, lying between them.

Remus felt cornered. "This is... not the moment to discuss it," he said, avoiding everybody's eyes as he looked around distractedly. "Dumbledore is dead..."

"Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world," McGonagall said curtly, just as the hospital doors opened again and Hagrid walked in, in an even worse state than she had seen him a while ago.

"I've... I've done it, Professor," he choked. "M-moved him. Professor Sprout's got the kids back in bed. Professor Flitwick's lyin' down, but he says he'll be all righ' in a jiffy, an' Professor Slughorn says the Ministry's bin informed."

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said, standing up at once and turning to look at the group around Bill's bed. "I shall have to see the Ministry when they get here. Hagrid, please tell the Heads of Houses – Slughorn can represent Slytherin – that I want to see them in my office forthwith. I would like you to join us too." As Hagrid nodded, turned, and shuffled out of the room again, she looked down at Harry. "Before I meet them I would like a quick word with you, Harry. If you'll come with me..."

Harry stood up, murmured "See you in a bit" to Ron, Hermione and Ginny and followed McGonagall back down the ward. When the door closed behind her, all heads were turned to Remus and Tonks again.

Tonks's nose had turned red and she was sniffing. Remus was looking at her. He was feeling terribly guilty for making her go through this, but didn't try offering any kind of comfort; he knew that this would make her explode.

An awkward silence stretched in the room. Fleur returned to treating Bill's wounds, Molly and Arthur looking over her shoulder.

"And what do you think is going to happen now that Dumbledore is dead?" Ron asked loudly. Hermione gave him an approving nod for his attempt to find a subject of discussion.

Remus conjured a chair, which he positioned near Bill's bed, and sat down. "It's the end of an era," he said grimly. "Dumbledore did so much for the wizarding world, so many of us relied on him about everything."

"And Voldemort..." Hermione mumbled. "Dumbledore was the only one he feared. Now that he's gone there's nothing to stop him."

"There's the Order of the Phoenix," Arthur reminded her.

"But we don't have a leader anymore," Molly pointed out.

"We'll pick one."

"Nobody will be the leader Dumbledore was," Remus said.

Molly nodded sadly.

"And what about the school?" Ginny asked.

"Minerva McGonagall will be the Headmistress, at least temporarily," Arthur said.

"_If _the school continues to operate," Remus added. "After tonight's attack, I won't be surprised to see it close down."

The kids gasped.

"That will be a disaster," Tonks sighed, closing her eyes.

"What happened with the Death Eaters anyway?" Luna asked. "Did they leave?"

"They'd have to leave on foot, the way to the Room of Requirement was blocked," Ron reminded her.

* * *

Tonks flew an entire hour around the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade searching for the two Aurors, but could not find a single trace of them. Exhausted and very annoyed, she headed for her flat, when something occurred to her. She changed direction in mid-air and headed towards Dawlish's flat, which was located in the west side of the village. 

She landed on his balcony and insistently tapped on the shutting. A minute later, he appeared, dressed in a saumon nightgown, rubbing his eyes.

"Nymphadora, what are you -"

"You're sleeping!" she exclaimed. "Death Eaters attack Hogwarts, and you're sleeping!"

He squinted his eyes, confused. "Wait... what?"

"Weren't you supposed to be on duty? Where's Proudfoot?"

Dawlish shot her a reproachful look. "All Aurors were urgently called to London early in the evening, there had been a Death Eater attack in the outskirts. Robards was very displeased for being unable to find you."

"He was unable to find me because I was at Hogwarts fighting Death Eaters! Like _you _should have been! Do you know that Dumbledore is dead?"

Dawlish's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Yes!" She exhaled heavily. "Damn it, it must have been on purpose... an attack in London to occupy the Aurors while Hogwarts would be under attack. Why didn't you return to guarding Hogwarts after you came back?"

"Because I was tired! And, in fact, I'm still tired, so if you'll excuse me..."

He stepped in the room and shut the shutters and the glass doors. Tonks gritted her teeth in anger, then mounted her broomstick and headed to her flat.

* * *

Early in the following morning, she woke up, hastily took a shower, got dressed and took the Floo to the Ministry – after that day in March, she had forced herself to learn how to use it, and was quite familiar with it now. The rustle and bustle she was greeted with upon her arrival was far louder than usual; with two Death Eater attacks having taken place the previous night, it was to be expected. 

She took the lift to Level Two and headed straight to the office of Gawain Robards, who had succeeded Rufus Scrimgeour as Head of the Auror office. She found his door open and him immersed in a pile of paperwork.

"Mr Robards," she called from the doorframe.

He looked up. He was a tall man in his late forties, with long, dark blond hair and beard. "Tonks! Where were you last night?"

"I was at Hogwarts," she said in a fake, sweet tone, "seeing how my job is to protect the school."

"Oh." His face turned serious. "Of course, you were not on duty last night... but I must say, the attack at Hogwarts caught us completely off guard, so it is thankful you were there." He paused. "I haven't heard much about that, though, I am focused on the London attack... You must have been at Hogwarts since before the attack, haven't you? I was unable to find you at Hogsmeade."

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore was to leave the school and needed to have someone guard over it."

Robards did not appreciate this piece of information. "Sad news, the passing of Dumbledore... but you are working for the Ministry, and not for him."

"My shift was over at the time."

"Yet, you have to be available at all times, especially in times like this. I could put you on probation for what you did."

She didn't even flinch.

"I won't," he continued, "but it never hurts to be careful. Now, before you return to Hogsmeade..." He flipped through a few papers and picked out one, which he handed to Tonks. "In light of the Death Eater attack at Hogwarts, your schedule has been revised." She looked at the timetable; there were single-member shifts of six hours each, instead of the usual two-member, twelve-hours shifts. "We are not expecting more attacks, so single-member shifts will have to do. And might I remind you," he added sternly, "that unless you had somehow foreseen the schedule changes, by coming here you abandoned your shift."

"I am not a Seer," she said simply as she headed to the door. "Good morning."

* * *

Once at the Atrium, she got ready to depart to Hogsmeade, when it occurred to her that, since she was in London, it would be a good idea to stop by the Headquarters to see how the Order was dealing with the loss of its leader. So, she Apparated one block away from number twelve, Grimmauld Place, in the back of a blind alley where no Muggles ever went. On her way to the building, she saw Mad-Eye Moody. 

"Hi, Tonks," he greeted. "Having a rough day?"

"Yes," she muttered. The difficult battle and the emotion-ridden aftermath still bore their marks on her body and mind, and she hadn't had a decent night's sleep to help her get rid of them. "And you?"

"Need to save what I can," he growled. "Going to the Headquarters?"

"Yes."

"What joke did Remus tell us the night Fleur Delacour arrived at the Burrow?"

_Typical Mad-Eye, _she thought, _always suspicious of everything. _She hadn't seen him in a while, so she had almost forgotten he made this habit of questioning his companions in order to make sure they were not Death Eaters in disguise. Not that she blamed him, since she knew what he had been through in his life. But of all the things he could have asked her... How could he expect her to remember a joke that had been told all these months ago?

She racked her brains... and remembered.

"It was about Canadian Boggarts. And then you said you don't like jokes about Boggarts because they are by definition the scariest creatures imaginable and we need to be constantly vigilant, not making jokes about them."

"Good," he said and gestured to her to come closer. "The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix are located in number twelve, Grimmauld Place," he whispered in her ear.

She gave him another look of confusion. "I knew that."

"No, you didn't. I performed the Fidelius Charm all over again. I figured we'd be better off without that traitorous bastard knowing the secret."

Tonks's features hardened at the memory of Snape. "You did well."

"I have to go to the Ministry. Have a nice day."

"Bye, Mad-Eye."

Tonks continued her way to the building, tapped the door open with her wand and entered the house. She mentally cursed herself when the door closed a little too loudly. Thankfully, Mrs Black had not woken up. Remembering to skip the coffee table, she made her way to the kitchen and pushed the door open. Only Remus was there, reading a book and taking notes on a piece of parchment. The moment he heard the door creak, he looked up.

"Good morning," he said warmly.

"Good morning," she replied uneasily. After what had happened the previous night, she would much rather avoid facing him again.

"Come in," he said, noticing her shifting awkwardly. She entered the room and sat in the top of the table, one chair keeping them apart. He pushed the book, the parchment and the quill aside. "So, what brings you here?"

"I went to see Robards at the Ministry and thought I'd drop by. Did you hear about the attack in the outskirts?"

"Yes, Hestia just sent word, Mad-Eye went to see what he can dig up on it."

She nodded. "And what brings _you_ here?"

His eyes avoided hers as he spoke. "I can't cope with seeing them right now."

_Them. _The werewolves. Fenrir Greyback would be gloating now. And it certainly wasn't like Remus to share his joy...

...Wait a minute... _right now?_

"You mean you're planning to go back?"

"I'm thinking about staying until Dumbledore's funeral, and then... yes, I'll go."

"But... it's very risky!"

He shrugged. "It's always been."

"Not that much!" she objected. "Last night you were fighting against Greyback! How are you going to go back like nothing's happened?"

"It's not -"

"He could _kill _you, Remus! _Kill _you!"

He ran his hand through his hair in obvious discomfort. "Tonks, calm down, please. I'll be fine."

"How can I calm down?" she yelled and rose. "You want to go get yourself killed, and you're telling me to calm down?" She took a deep breath and slumped back down to her seat. "Damn it, Remus... if something happened to you..." She rested her elbows on the table and hid her face in her palms.

Remus tentatively made to take her hand, but she was just out of his reach. He withdrew his hand. "Stop worrying over me," he said softly.

Her voice came out full of pain and bitterness, while her face remained buried in her hands. "I can't help it."

"You never tried to."

She neither confirmed nor denied that, but just let out a long sigh.

Remus found himself at a loss. He didn't want to see her so upset, yet he couldn't think of anything that would make her feel better. Except promising her he wouldn't go back to the werewolves, but that was out of the question. He was _needed_ there, and that was more important than whatever risk he might put himself into. Besides, he didn't really believe it was such a big risk anyway.

"Just try to be reasonable, Tonks..." he started.

The top of Tonks's head emerged from her palms, and he could see her furious gaze directed straight at him. "If you dare say this word once again..." she warned.

His gaze shot upwards in despair. He knew she hated it, but what other choice did he have? How could he convince her that she was wasting her time worrying over him? Repeating the arguments he had used so many times before would surely drive her up the wall. But if those couldn't make her see what a mistake she was doing, what a misconception it was to think she could be in love with him... what could?

"You don't know," he said in a painful whisper, his eyes now fixed on the table. "All the things you say, you say because you don't know."

She moved over to the chair beside him. Her hand reached up to his chin, and she forced him to meet her gaze. "What is it that I don't know?"

He turned his head away before replying, "You can't love someone who can ruin you just by being who he is."

She shook her head, incredulous at his persistence. "Remus, look at me."

He braced himself and slowly turned around.

"Can't I?"

"How can you?" he asked in frustration. "How can you accept the thought of... of _wasting _your life with someone like me?"

A small smile crept upon her face, as her hand reached up to trace his jaw line. "Remus... has no one told you that love is blind?"

Her gesture soothed him, and the faint traces of a smile appeared on his face. "Yeah, I think I've heard that somewhere."

"Good."

She leaned closer and kissed him softly. Her lips lingered onto his for a moment before he deepened the kiss, savouring the taste his heart had been yearning for so long.

When they pulled apart, he took a moment to delight in watching her face. Her dark eyes were twinkling, and her smile... Merlin, how he had missed her smile.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," he said, gently caressing her cheek. "I want you to be safe and happy."

"Then you should personally take care of it."

He put his arms around her and pulled her close to him.

"I wish things were easier," he mumbled.

"We can find a way," she said, absently fidgeting with a loose thread hanging from his robe.

"And the werewolves?"

She pulled back and met his eyes. "One thing at a time. We'll worry about them later."

His lips curled to a half-smile. He reached out to brush a lock of hair away from her face, but she surprised him by twirling it around her finger and bringing it close to her eyes for inspection.

"I'm getting sick of this hair," she said thoughtfully. "Look how mousy it's become."

"Why don't you change it back, then?"

She stifled the childish reply of 'It's all your fault!' behind a mischievous smile. "I haven't been all that... magically alert, lately." She concentrated hard for a few moments, then opened her eyes again. "Still the same," she said, frowning at the lock still twirled around her finger.

"The roots are pink," Remus pointed out.

"Ah. I guess it's coming back, then."

"Why had it stopped working?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, her expression mocking. "Do yourself a favour and don't ask. Because the answer only goes to show how much of an idiot you are."

He understood. "I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "I hadn't realised it had affected you so much."

"It's not like I was hiding it."

He cringed. "I guess... I didn't want to let myself believe it."

She chuckled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "But you believe it now."

"I do."

"Better late than never."

She kissed him, and he allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of her, as all worries vanished from his mind for a while.

For all he cared, everything was perfect.

**-The End-**

I hope you enjoyed the ride!

I'm already working on 'Through Times Of War', a sequel of sorts. It will be an independent story that will contain the adventures of the Order (and Snape) as well as Harry and the Horcrux hunt, but it will be following the version of events given here, and you will find mentions of them. It will be a long time until it's ready to be posted, but I thought you might want to know :)

Again, thank you for reading :) Reviews are welcome and appreciated.**  
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